


Something Wonderful

by saysomethingspiderman



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Real Person Fiction, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2020-08-20 05:16:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20222416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saysomethingspiderman/pseuds/saysomethingspiderman
Summary: During your time as a professional photographer, you had come across incredibly good looking men, but there was just something about Tom that stood out. Who would have thought shooting the self-titled “walking meme” would change your life forever?





	1. Chapter 1

“Questions? What sort of questions?”

The light breeze blew a piece of hair in front of your eyes as you looked up at Carter, the cameraman in charge of the behind-the-scenes snippet for the latest British GQ shoot. You placed your camera gently on the sunlounger beside the pool, brows slightly furrowed. The Californian sun burned into your skin, but being used to shooting in locations where temperatures dominated even this, sun cream had become a part of your daily routine no matter the area. One could never be too careful, you’d learned that the hard way.

“I don’t know, one’s that are a bit… Out there,” Carter replied, and you roll your eyes. “Here, this is what I’ve put,” he said, handing you one of the pieces of paper from the baseball cap.

“‘If you could meet anyone from history, who would it be?’ Wow, very out there.” You folded the paper back up and grabbed another, shaking your head at the mention of a penis. “Alright, I guess I can come up with something. When’s he getting here anyway? Don’t tell me he’s being a drama queen.”

You had done enough shoots where the cover star had been quite the diva that it had gotten to the point where you always half expected it. Of course, a great number of people had proven you wrong, but judging was a hard habit to break. You had never been introduced to Tom before and from what you’d heard, he was a lovely guy who hadn’t let fame go to his head. Yet.

“No, Warren’s just doing the last touches I think,” Carter said, leaning over your shoulder to read the question you were writing. He laughed and took his notebook back after your piece of paper had been ripped from the book to be folded into the hat. “That one’s gonna cause a stir with the fans if he answers it!”

“Well there’s nothing wrong with a bit of drama,” you grinned wickedly and gave Carter a wink as he headed back into the rented house to set his own camera up to film the short video once you’d finished with Tom yourself.

The sound of laughter made you look up a few minutes later and you hastily tossed a shirt over one of the sunloungers, finishing off your touch to the set. Carter made his way back over, followed by Tom. You had to double take, caught slightly off guard by the sun hitting his golden tan, making him shimmer slightly. Well, there was no denying he was gorgeous. 

“And this is [Y/N]. She’ll be the one bossing you about for the day.”

You shook your head and gave Tom a warm smile. “Just look good for the camera and no bossing about will be needed,” you smirked. “I’m sure you won’t struggle with that anyway. Right, let’s get started.”

Tom was a complete natural. He eased into the shoot in no time, effortlessly pulling off his poses. In fact, it was quite distracting. During your time as a professional photographer, you had come across incredibly good looking men, but there was just something about Tom that stood out. His personality shone through in the photos and you took some great ones of him laughing. Those were your favourites.

“You wanna have a break before the next outfit change?” you asked, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You loved the heat, but boy was it scorching. You put your camera down next to your laptop and found the snack table, grabbing a plate to fill with sliced watermelon. “I think we’ll go inside for the next ones,” you said, glancing up at Tom who had come to take some food too. “I don’t know about you, but I’m just about dying in this heat.”

Tom laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think photos of me drenched in sweat will look that great.” He reached over to pick a handful of strawberries and your cheeks warmed at the sight of his chest in front of your face, very much dripping with sweat.

“Well, I beg to differ,” you found yourself saying, then gave a chuckle to brush the comment away. “There’s towels inside if you want to wipe yourself down.”

“How long have you been doing this?” asked Tom as you both made your way inside, instantly feeling the cool air from the fans in the corner. He popped a strawberry into his mouth and swiped one of the hand towels from a table. “You just seem a bit young, no offence.”

You shrugged a shoulder and told him no offence was taken. “I’ll actually be twenty-one this weekend. You’re not the first one to question my age,” you hummed, joining him on the couch. “I’m just lucky to catch a break so early, I guess. I’m sure you can say the same.”

His face lit up and he smiled softly. “I’m just waiting for it all to fall apart,” he admitted and, catching your small frown, quickly added, “I know I’m lucky and being Spider-Man is… Well it’s awesome! It doesn’t seem real sometimes, is what I’m saying.”

It was refreshing to hear his humbleness. “Are you used to the attention yet? I think just about everyone wants a piece of you. I mean, we had to fight to shoot this cover!”

The comment made him laugh and he shook his head. “Well I better make it worth it!” He pulled a leg up onto the couch as he relaxed into the cushions. “I don’t mind it actually. It’s part of the job, isn’t it? I’ve had moments where I’ve freaked out and I start to question how I’m going to live this life,” he told you, eyes a little wide. “But I’ve met some great friends on set, like Zendaya. The amount of times I’ve rang her in a panic! She’s so good at handling it and is so good at talking me through all this.”

“Are you and Zendaya…?”

“What? No! She’s just one of my best friends.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone answer a question so fast,” you teased, unable to hide your smirk. You raised a brow and laughed softly at his flushed cheeks. “I’m just messing with you,” you snorted and gave his shoulder a gentle shove.

His smile made your stomach flutter and you focused on your snack to try and hide the way your cheeks reddened, but you could still feel his dark eyes lingering on your face. 

“You’ve got a bit of…” Tom gestured to his chin. “Juice.”

Your head shot up and you frowned before wiping your chin quickly with the back of your hand. “God, remind me never to eat melon again when there’s company,” you muttered, almost entirely sure your skin had turned as red as a tomato. 

“Maybe you should be the one with the towel.” His laugh was infectious and you found yourself easily joining in.

The photoshoot soon picked up again before you lost the light from the setting sun. A golden hue illuminated the rooms, only making it harder for you not to get distracted by the man you were photographing. A part of you wished it was the middle of winter just because it would mean Tom would actually have a top on. He changed into a few different outfits, from a deep blue, loose pyjama style suit to a proper shirt and jacket that he must have been roasting in. You continued to snap away when everyone took another break to munch on the Chinese takeaway one of the guys had ordered, taking some of your favourite photos of him joking around with the guys. 

Eventually, when you ran out of charge on both your spare batteries, the camera was put down and you all settled in the living room to start recording the special snippet with Tom.

“You look so worried,” you noted with a smirk as the actor got comfortable on the couch in front of the tripod. You leaned back against the dining table just behind the camera and sneakily looked him up and down. Blue was definitely his colour. 

“Alright, just introduce yourself whenever you’re ready and we’ll go from there,” Carter nodded and gave Tom a quick thumbs up to let him know the camera began recording.

It was clear that Tom had done a lot of videos like this before, coming off at ease with the introduction and then he began to pick questions from the hat on his lap. Carter’s was the first to be answered and you couldn’t help but smile at his answer. You weren’t expecting Winston Churchill. He kept finding you as he spoke, barely looking at the camera.

“‘Kill or keep’,” Tom read aloud after picking another piece of paper and visibly cringed at the question. “‘Tobey Maguire or Andrew Garfield?’ Who put that one in there?” he asked, scanning the small amount of people in the room. His eyes found you and you gave him a sheepish grin, your own eyes sparkling. He shook his head and returned your smile as he stretched his arm over the back of the couch. “Oh, that’s a tough one… I’m gonna have to say Andrew Garfield because… I love him and he’s killing it right now.”

A few more questions were picked out and answered, one particular response going off on a tangent about not being able to chop off a nipple-sized penis. You weren’t in charge of editing the video, but you knew for sure some of his explanation wasn’t GQ-friendly and would have to be cut. 

“I can’t believe you made me pick between each Spider-Man,” Tom said, coming up behind you as you packed away your laptop. “I still feel so torn about it!”

“Yeah, well life’s full of tough decisions. I just don’t know how Tobey will take the news you think he’s a shit Spider-Man.” 

“If I’d said Andrew, he would have killed me,’ he replied, chuckling gently. He watched you zip up your bags and nibbled lightly on his lower lip. “What are you doing this weekend? For your birthday, I mean,” he said, trying his best to sound casual.

You pursed your lips to hold back a smile. “No idea. I was supposed to be going out with my flatmate for a few drinks since I go back home tomorrow, but I don’t know how long it’ll take me to edit all these photos. Deadlines aren’t put on hold because it’s my birthday,” you shrugged and pulled your bag up over your shoulder.

“Oh. Right. Well you should definitely go out for drinks,” he nodded, running his fingers through his soft curls. “I just thought… Well if your flatmate’s busy for whatever reason, I could always, well, take you out. I’m flying home tonight so I’ll be there for a few days and it’s a big birthday after all and you don’t wanna waste it editing some shit photos - not that I’m saying they’re shit, I just mean-”

“We can go for a drink or two,” you interrupted, his rambling giving you those damned butterflies again. “How about I text you and we’ll sort something, yeah?”

Were you really asking for his number? Were you that predictable to do what pretty much any girl would kill for?

“Yeah, sounds great to me,” he nodded quickly and took the phone you offered to type in his number. 

“Well we’ll sort something out, but I’ve got to get going. If I plan on getting drunk with Spider-Man, I should start on these edits as soon as possible.”

You resisted the urge to lean up to give his cheek a kiss and instead went with an incredibly lame wave on your way out of the house. The thought of seeing him again in just a few days got you incredibly excited. Saturday really couldn’t come quick enough.


	2. Chapter 2

Was there a word for feeling so far out of your comfort zone that you’d rather jump into a lake with bricks attached to your ankles? Irrational? Maybe. Dramatic? Most definitely. It was just drinks, nothing to fret over.

Ever since you left Tom at the house after the photoshoot, he’d been all you thought about. There had been no mention of Tom when you’d arrived back home to London the following night, only telling your flatmate Olivia you had a date with someone you’d met at work. You weren’t entirely sure why you kept it a secret. Perhaps because you knew Olivia would make a huge fuss or maybe because you didn’t want to get your hopes up that things would go far enough to reach a second night out. Yet in spite of trying to convince yourself it was just a casual thing, you still spent most of Saturday afternoon going back and forth between near enough every outfit in your wardrobe.

“Do you think I should just call and suggest we go somewhere else?” you asked and tossed a pair of heeled boots into the ‘no’ pile at the end of your bed. You glanced up at Olivia, who stood leaning against the doorframe. “All these outfits make me look even more like a hobbit than usual.” After fastening the buckle around your ankles, you stood and walked over to the mirror, testing your balance in a pair of incredibly high heels.

“You said he’s not that tall anyway, so I’m sure he won’t care,” Olivia shrugged and folded her arms. “I’ll tell you you look hot if you tell me his name.”

You shot her a look in the mirror. “I’ll tell you it another day, I don’t want you stalking him on Instagram or something.” You turned around a little and tugged the black dress down to stop it riding up your bum, then gave a little nod. “I think this is the one… I guess a little black dress can never go wrong.”

“Where are you going anyway?” asked Olivia as she moved further into the room to look through your handbags.

“Uh, Monkey House up in Mayfair. I’m meeting him there.”

“Very fancy,” she smirked and handed you a sparkling silver clutch that matched your heels.

You scrunched your curled hair to mess up it a little and double checked your red lipstick hadn’t transferred onto your teeth, then gave a small nod before grabbing your phone to order an Uber. “Don’t wait up!” you grinned a few minutes later as you left the flat, allowing yourself to get excited. After getting comfortable in the car, you took your phone from your bag to let Tom know you were on your way.

[Y/N]  
8:42pm _Just left now. Should be there in about ten minutes._

Tom  
8:44pm _I’m running late, won’t keep you too long!_

[Y/N]  
8:44pm _You better hurry, I might wander off and find another bloke to buy me a drink..._

Tom  
8:45pm _You wouldn’t._

[Y/N]  
8:45pm _Can’t promise anything ;)_

Even though you arrived later than you thought you would, you still stood outside the bar next to the queue of people waiting to go inside. You looked around expectantly, trying to catch any sign of Tom. Just as the awkwardness of standing alone outside a bar began to creep up on you, you felt a gentle hand on your arm.

“Shit, didn’t mean to scare you,” Tom laughed, having both felt and seen you jump out of your skin. His eyes quickly scanned your frame and he gave a boyish grin. “You look lovely, [Y/N].”

“I can definitely say the same about you,” you replied and didn’t even try to hide the fact you were checking him out. His black shirt stretched across his shoulders, showing off his muscles, and his black-and-white trousers made his legs look good. “And I suppose that’ll excuse your lateness.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he chuckled, running his fingers through his thick hair. “I’ll try to be on time next time.”

"Who says there’ll be a next time?” you asked with a raised brow and grinned at the eyeroll he gave you in response. You followed him into the bar, walking straight past the queue. There were a few mentions of Tom’s name you heard in the distance from people waiting in line, but you made a point to ignore them. It was to be expected that Tom would gain at least a little bit of attention, you just hadn’t expected it on your night together. The second you stepped into the lounge, the music blared into your ears and it was as though your heart began pumping extra hard to stay in time with the beat. It wasn’t overly crowded, but it was definitely busy and you kept close to Tom as you shuffled over to the bar. You ordered a martini and Tom got himself a beer.

“Happy birthday,” he smiled, raising his bottle to tap against your glass. “Now let’s get fucking hammered!”

The two of you talked and laughed and joked for hours, only realising you hadn’t moved from the bar after your fifth drink. Tom spotted an empty couch towards the back and you got comfortable on the plush cushions, unable to keep the smile off your face as you continued chatting. He told you all about his parents and three brothers, and it was so incredibly clear how much love he had for them. Then his dog Tessa came up. The way he spoke about her was like he was speaking about an actual baby. Gosh, how could someone be so adorable?

“She’s such a good dog,” Tom sighed heavily, unable to focus on you properly from the amount he’d had to drink. He leaned back against the cushions and held his hand over his heart. “I just love her so much, you know? She’s the sweetest.”

You giggled almost uncontrollably at the look on his face. “Are you sure you’re just friends?”

“Friends?” he repeated, eyebrows raised dramatically. “She’s family!” He pulled his phone from his pocket and, after the few attempts it took to type in his password, opened his photos to show off Tessa. His face softened and his eyes glowed with adoration. God, he was drunk. He shifted on the couch to get closer and held his phone out as he flicked through the photos, though lifted the screen nearer to his face to squint at most of them, clearly unable to see properly.

“I almost feel like I should leave you two alone,” you laughed and when he hiccupped in response, you got up and headed to the bar, returning with a tray full of shots. Tom’s eyebrows shot up when he saw the amount you’d brought back.

“Do you want me to die?” he asked, shouting a little over the music.

“It’s my birthday!”

“And me dying is a part of that?”

You winked and slid four glasses his way, then sat down with your own collection. After the count of three, you downed each shot of vodka as fast as you could, spilling some down your chin in an attempt to finish first. The burning in the back of your throat caused you to cringe in pain and you shook your head as though it would help, but you realised instantly that that was a huge mistake. The room spun. Your stomach churned. You held it back. There was no way you were throwing up. You weren’t that weak.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” Tom groaned, leaning back fully against the cushions with his hands over his face. He took some deep breaths and peaked through his fingers, shaking his head at your smirk. “You’ve killed me. You’ve literally killed me.”

“What was that?” you asked, cupping your ear as your leaned into him, body pressing against his. The heat radiated from his skin, almost burning yours. “Did you just say you’re having a great night and there’s no one else you’d rather spend your Saturday night with?”

He laughed and swiftly moved his arms so he could tickle your sides and pulled you closer. The stench of alcohol on his breath made you dizzy, but you knew yours was just as bad. “Let’s go outside, I think I need some air,” he slurred and slowly pushed himself up. He stopped for a moment, swaying on the spot, then helped you up from the couch as though you were the one unable to stand still. You were bad, but not in as bad a state that Tom was. You kept hold of each other, giggling quietly, and you found your way out to the front where all the smokers stood huddled together.

“I wish I wasn’t going away tomorrow,” Tom said, leaning back against the brick wall for support in case his legs gave way.

You looked up at him with a deep frown and squinted a little, trying to focus on his blurry form. “On holiday?”

“I wish!” he laughed and hiccuped. “Work stuff. Films can’t promote themselves as my… Someone would say…” He gave a groan and ran a hand over his slightly sweaty face. “I don’t feel so good, [Y/n]...”

You grinned at the taller man and wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him steady since the wall wasn’t doing much to help. “How about we get you home? I’ll order an Ub-”

“No, I don’t want to go home.” The pout he gave was reminiscent of a child and it was truly charming. “This place doesn’t close until four… We’ve got all night! Let’s paint the town red!”

“I know you’re a movie star, Thomas, but you don’t need to bring those cheesy scripts into real life,” you smirked and reached up to pat his cheek lightly. A grin lit up his face and he grabbed your hand to pull you that little bit closer. Your heart sped up and you could hear it pumping loudly in your ears as you gazed up at him. His eyes were beautiful. You swallowed nervously when you noticed him leaning in, the bitter smell of alcohol and his woody cologne hitting you hard. You couldn’t get enough of it. You knew it wasn’t right and you shouldn’t be doing this in the states you were in, but that logical voice in your head had disappeared way earlier in the night. It was long gone.

His breath tickled your lips and goosebumps ran all the way up your arms and legs. You leaned into him, all the voices in the background fading until they were muffled and unable to interrupt you in your little bubble. Tom paused when you nudged your noses against each other. In a swift movement, he turned and threw up on the pavement, splashing sick all over your toes.

“I really don’t feel well...” He hunched over and wiped his mouth, face scrunched up.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” you murmured, trying your best to avoid looking down at your feet. The sight of sick splattered on your skin would surely make you gag. You shook your head and kept an arm tightly around him while you ordered an Uber.

Tom’s head rested against your shoulder as he snored quietly the whole ride back to your flat. Of course, you had no idea what his address was and it would’ve probably taken a lifetime to get that information out of him, so the easiest option was for him to crash at your place. He mumbled to himself and giggled into your hair when you helped him out of the car and assisted him up the multiple flights of stairs.

“Okay, next time you’re drinking lemonade all night,” you told him sternly, though ended up laughing loudly as the two of you stumbled up the last few steps. After a number of tries, you managed to unlock the door and guided Tom into the living room towards the couch.

“Are you taking advantage of me and my vulera-vulnerb… drunkenness?” Tom licked his lips teasingly and fell down onto the couch, pulling you with him, but you chuckled and shook your head.

“Not tonight.” You gave him a wink and pushed yourself back up shakily, wobbling on the spot. “Now sleep. Don’t make too much noise or I’ll kill you.” You ruffled his hair gently on your way out, almost certain he’d already fallen asleep. The night definitely hadn’t been boring, that was for sure.


	3. Chapter 3

There had never been pain like it. You carefully opened an eyelid, but shut it almost instantly. An awful ray of sunshine shot through the curtains, making your brain bleed. You barely felt alive. _Were_ you alive? Honestly, you weren’t a hundred percent sure of the answer.

How much had you had to drink?

You vaguely remembered shots and anything after that was a big blur that was gone for good. There was no memory of how you even got home, just the faint recollection of laughing. A lot of laughing. That could have been going on the whole night, though. You always became a giggler after even just a sniff of alcohol.

After taking a deep breath through your nose, you forced yourself to sit up in bed and a horrible feeling that you were going to die in about five minutes swept over you. This was it, this was the end of your drinking adventures. No more drinking… Ah, those famous last words. The disgusting feeling one gets after waking up after far too many cocktails was quite clearly present and you all but prayed that it would be over soon, whether that be the hangover or your life. You weren’t fussed. As long as your headache and nausea disappeared, you’d be happy with either outcome.

A high pitched squeal coming from outside the door made you frown and you rolled out of bed, keeping your bedding cocooned around your frail frame as you shuffled through to the living room. Olivia stood red-faced near the window, teeth sunk into her lower lip to try and deny the presence of a cheeky smile.

“Well now I know why you wouldn’t tell me his name,” she chuckled, looking across the room at you and then glanced back down at Tom, who lay sprawled across the couch, snoring quietly.

“And it’s also why you won’t be telling anyone,” you replied, voice thick and husky from singing along to the music all night. You stared at Tom for a moment and gave a faint smile at the state of him. You were in no state to judge; you were near enough in the same way.

Olivia got started on breakfast so you curled up on the smaller couch in front of the window, feeling sorry for yourself. You tried to rack your brain for any memories from the night before. The headache got worse the more you dug deeper. Your eyes scanned the room, seeing Tom’s boots that he’d kicked to the other side near the television. Your heels weren’t too far away and you frowned a little at the colour of the toes. What was on- Oh. It was vomit. Now you remembered. Tom had thrown up on your feet right after you’d nearly-

“Thank fuck you’re here.” Your head snapped back over to the occupant of the couch. Tom rubbed a hand over his face and gave a heavy sigh. “I thought I’d been kidnapped or something.”

“I’m not sure a kidnapper would leave you all alone to drool on the cushions,” you hummed, shaking your head a little.

He looked around tiredly and wiped the sleep from his eyes. His hair stuck up at all angles and there was the slightest hint of stubble on his jaw. “Did we-”

“No.”

“-do shots?”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. My treat, I guess,” you murmured, cheeks burning. You weren’t sure whether you were more nervous about the possibility of him meaning sex or just the kiss. Both ideas made your stomach flutter.

“They’re always my killer,” he grunted and curled into himself, mirroring your position. It was obvious how much he was dying and you’d never related to anything more.

“Was a fucking great night though,” you smirked. “We’ve got the hangovers to prove it.”

“You’ve got that right,” he agreed and fumbled around to find his phone, eventually pulling it from the back pocket of his trousers. He squinted slightly at the brightness of the screen as he read over the extortionate amount of missed calls and text messages. “Shit,” he muttered, raking his fingers through his hair and messing the curls up even more. “I was supposed to leave for the airport an hour ago.”

You waited for him to move, to start gathering his things, to run out the door. Your brows furrowed into a deep frown when he just stayed, fingers tapping rapidly at his screen as he typed out a message. “The plane won’t wait for you, you know,” you told him, pushing your hair from your face to tuck behind your ear.

“Yes, yes, I know that, I’m just trying to find out how I’m meant to get there in time.” He sat up and his face paled considerably at the swift movement, but he just took a deep breath to hold back the urge to throw up.

When his phone rang and he answered almost instantly, you headed into the kitchen to make a cup of tea for the both of you. Your parents had ingrained in your brain since your early years that tea fixed everything. You placed his mug on the coffee table in front of him and sat down with your own, sipping the hot liquid quietly.

“Yes, I know, I’m sorry,” Tom sighed into the phone, visibly frustrated. “It was just a few dri- I don’t know, Chelsea I think… Well, I don’t remember getting home, that’s how I don’t know where I am, Harry…”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing and had to force yourself not to listen in case something broke you. Despite your brother being three years old, you were still well experienced in that kind of bickering only siblings could understand.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he said with a small chuckle after saying goodbye to his brother. He reached over and took the cup of tea, taking a much needed gulp. “You’d think he was my mother or something with the way he treats me sometimes.”

“Just sounds like he’s looking out for you,” you shrugged, staring as he licked his lips after placing the mug back down on its coaster. “And it also sounds like you need to go. I’m sure you don’t need nor want another lecture if you actually do miss your flight.”

Tom nodded and stood, taking a moment to catch his balance before shoving on his boots. After double checking he had his wallet, keys and phone (although there was a huge temptation to leave it to avoid more calls and texts), you walked him down the short hallway to the front door.

“I really wish I wasn’t leaving today.” He fumbled with his keys in his hand and stayed standing in the doorway. He gave a half smile, the exhaustion evident in his eyes. “Maybe we could have gone out for food or something… Somewhere where we’d actually remember how it ends.”

The image of your almost kiss made its way into your mind, the memory near enough teasing you about what could have been. You glanced up at him and caught a glimmer in his eye. Did he remember? You cleared your throat quietly. “Yeah, well we can sort something for when you get back,” you suggested and tried to keep the hopefulness in your voice at bay.

“Or if you just happen to be hanging around America at any point in the next couple of weeks, just give me a shout,” Tom laughed and you couldn’t help the grin that lit up your face.

“I’m actually over there for another shoot soon so I guess we can go out then if we cross paths again.” You weren’t one to believe in fate, but what was the likelihood that you were both in another country at the same time in the middle of your busy schedules?

“Let me know when you’re over and I’ll see what I can do,” he winked and your eyes sparkled.

You shook your head and moved to start pushing him out onto the landing. “Well we’ll see about that, Holland. You’ve got work to do over there and that means you can’t miss this flight so off you go, go be a good little actor,” you teased and he snorted as he humoured you by moving away, though you knew your small frame barely did anything to force him out. He bent down to kiss your cheek, but gave a huff when his phone started ringing for the second time that morning. With another wink, he hurried off down the stairs, talking frantically to the person on the other end.

*

The two of you talked near enough on a constant basis. Whether that was through text, voice notes of stories just too long and exciting to type, FaceTime or the odd phone call that was usually cut short. It was strange. You knew more than likely that nothing would happen, that your lives were too busy for each other, but not one part of you wanted to end it. It felt like being back at school and getting excited every morning at the thought of seeing him again, except instead of giving a shy smile in the school corridor, you both sent ugly snapchats to each other as a way to wish one another good morning.

The time difference was difficult, that was to be expected. With Tom flying all over America and you staying in London for some home shoots, there were days where only a phone call would do, but those phone calls would last way over an hour. He’d tell you all about his day, about the fun him and the team were having. He’d tell you some of the crazy requests he’d been asked to do during interviews, all of which he’d happily complied. It was all in good nature and he loved showing off; it was all part of the job. When he’d catch himself excitedly recounting a funny story of what he, Zendaya and Jacob had gotten up to during their day of promoting, he’d ask how your day had been, the tone in his voice always giving away how genuinely interested he was. You’d let him in on the photoshoots you’d done and how much of your life work had taken over, and how you wouldn’t have it any other way. Luck had given you your break and you weren’t one to be ungrateful for the opportunity, no matter how much you craved just an extra ten minutes of free time.

When you eventually arrived in the States, the schedule of the shoot ended up changing to be spread out over a few days, which meant your plans with Tom had to be completely amended. The two of you had set a whole day aside to explore New York together and you’d even added notes to your phone of a number of places you wanted to eat at. All that had to be thrown out the window. Why were you so bothered? You’d spent one night getting drunk together which ultimately led him spending the night at your flat in another room. It wasn’t anything special. Yet you still couldn’t help the giddy feeling over seeing Tom for barely even half of what was originally planned.

You spent extra time on your makeup the morning you were finally getting to see Tom, and went through your whole suitcase as though there would be a completely new set of clothes that were better than the multiple pairs of black jeans you’d packed. As there was no other choice, you settled on a pair of black jeans and a simple t-shirt. Afterall, it was just breakfast. After zipping up your heeled boots, you headed out of your hotel room and hailed a taxi to meet Tom at Buvette over in the West Village.

Unlike the first time you’d met up, Tom arrived early and you saw him standing outside the building on his phone. You beamed at the sight of the young man, appreciating how tight his jeans were. “Hey, stranger,” you smiled, having to raise your voice slightly to be heard over the car horns on the busy road.

Tom looked up from his phone and grinned. He slipped his phone into his back pocket and reached over to pull you into a tight hug, erasing the worry that things would be awkward. “Hello, darling,” he hummed and gave your cheek a gentle kiss. “Long time no see.”

“We’ll save the catching up for later, I’m bloody starving!” you laughed and led him into the restaurant. A waiter brought you both to a table by the window and you took a moment to just people watch, making up your own stories in your head about what they were rushing around to do. Orders were taken and the food soon arrived. “Have you seen how much people love those photos from our shoot?” you asked after swallowing a mouthful of poached egg. “I posted a few the other day on Instagram and it’s safe to say you have a lot of, ah, _imaginative_ fans,” you snorted and glanced up at him with a bold glint in your eye, catching the blush on his cheeks.

Tom shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I don’t read comments so wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, I wish I could erase some of the comments from my memory.”

“It’s a talent I’ve come to master.” He pushed up his glasses before cutting into his waffles and dunked a large piece into the syrup. “I wish we had the whole day together. I even tried to move a couple things around.”

“The morning is better than nothing.”

“Yeah, but I wanted it to be a good date, not something we could do any day of the year.”

“Oh, so this is a date, huh?” you questioned, brow raised to go with the teasing smirk that graced your lips. It hadn’t been discussed, you’d just assumed you were catching up. Admittedly, it sounded like a date from the beginning with all the planning and the cute little food spots you’d planned to visit, but neither of you had given the day an official title. Was that too much of a pre-teen thought?

Tom’s eyes widened a little and he did near enough everything to avoid looking at you. “I, uh, well I mean… I just-”

“We’ll call it a date,” you giggled. “Just to please you.”

His soft laughter filled the room, the sound drowning out the morning chatter of workers grabbing a quick bite to eat before their long day. “We’ll make it a good one, I promise.”

Tom was definitely one to stick to his promise. After much protesting, you gave in and let him be the gentleman and allowed him to pay the bill before he whisked you away out into the hectic streets of New York. The heat from the sun hit your skin, the warmth hot enough to burn. It was an absolutely gorgeous day, something that helped you ignore the large amount of New Yorkers who shoved past you on their way to work without so much as an apology. There was something about early starts that almost always made people grumpy.

At the end of the street, Tom raised his arm to hail a taxi and you both climbed into the back seat. He handed the driver a note and told him to go to the address written.

“Where are we going?” you asked as you pulled the seat belt over your shoulder. The car took off barely a couple of seconds after the door slammed shut.

“It’s a surprise,” he replied with an excited grin that lit up his whole face. “You’ll like it. Well, I hope you will. It’s quite a way away, we’ve to go over the bridge, but it’s worth it, trust me. It’s somewhere I always go if I have spare time whenever I’m here.”

“Okay, well no pressure on me to like it then.”

“No, no pressure at all. Just know that if you hate it then you’ll have ruined the whole day for the both of us.”

The taxi zoomed through the city, cutting in front of near enough every other car on the road. It wouldn’t be New York without a taxi driver auditioning for the next Fast and Furious film.

Ever since you received your first disposable camera on your tenth birthday, you rarely went anywhere without one in your bag. Granted, there had been multiple upgrades since then, but the enthusiasm for shooting never faded. You pulled your camera from your backpack and clicked away, trying to get the best photos possible. Tom even appeared in a few, pulling faces when he caught you aiming the lense his way, though he did give a smile in a couple. That smile could have killed someone. You let Tom have a play, though gave a firm warning that it cost more than double your rent, which was incredibly high for a small flat in Chelsea, so if he broke it, he’d be coughing up the money. Your collection of cameras gave you a feeling of happiness you assumed parents felt about their children. Laughing at how protective you were over an inanimate object, Tom used some tips and tricks he’d been given from his brother Harry and shot some photos of the scenery that flew by, only stopping when the taxi pulled up outside the gates to Brooklyn Botanic Garden.

“There’s one back in the city, but this one’s quieter,” Tom explained as he followed you out of the car. “That’s one of the reasons I love it.”

To no surprise, after barely making it into the gardens, Tom was spotted. Thankfully, after a few photos and a couple minutes of chatting, the two of you were left alone to wander around the greenery.

“I have to say, I wasn’t expecting this,” you confessed, eyes glued to a butterfly fluttering mere inches from your face.

“What were you expecting, just a quick breakfast and a wave goodbye?”

“A wave is being generous,” you teased and bumped your shoulder against his arm. “I don’t know what I was expecting. Something a bit more… Rushed maybe? Just because I know you’ve got to be back by noon.”

“I wanted this to be special,” he replied in a quiet voice and gave a laugh. “I’m hoping this is memorable and not as a horrendous story you’ll tell your friends when you talk about the worst dates you’ve been on.”

“Oh you just had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”

He grinned and after an almost unnoticeable hesitation, he slung an arm around your shoulders. Why did this feel so normal? Wasn’t it natural to go through an awkward phase of inwardly squealing about every glance or constantly wondering whether or not he was supposed to brush his hand against yours? In your defense, you hadn’t been in a relationship in two years and you’d matured quite a bit since then. Maybe this was what it was like to actually have a crush on someone in adulthood?

“It reminds me a bit of the Chelsea Flower Show,” you said after snapping a photo of some of the pink roses as the two of you strolled through the Cranford Rose Garden. “My grandparents used to let me tag along when I was younger.” You caught the smirk on Tom’s face and held a hand up before he could say anything. “Yes, yes, I know. I’m aware of how much of a posh totty that makes me sound…”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he laughed, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “We don’t choose where we come from and the privileges we have.”

“Hey, my family worked hard for what we have and I don’t live off that-”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly. Your frown eased slightly. “You’re speaking to someone who completely understands the judgement. And anyway, I can relate to wanting to earn and live off your own money.”

“Okay, okay, let’s both stop with the compliments and be actual normal people,” you laughed and Tom grabbed the camera from your hands. His tongue poked out between his lips as he focused intently.

“What are you doing this next week?” he asked, not looking up from flicking through the camera roll to see if any could be put up against yours.

“Well I’ll be back home so I’m not sure. Why?”

“How do you feel about staying for a bit longer?” He stood up straighter and offered a smile. “Change your flight. Stay another week. What’ve you got to lose?”

He wanted you to stay. Were things moving too fast? You didn’t care. Staying an extra week with Tom was a whole lot better than spending it at home trying to find the best time to call with a five hour time difference. Just like Tom said, what did you have to lose?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear your thoughts so far!


	4. Chapter 4

It was a lot easier than expected to extend your stay at your hotel, scheduling your leave for a week later as requested by Tom. Changing your flight was a completely different story, but after a couple of hours and a hefty fine later (that’s what savings were for, right?), everything got sorted. There was a guilt in the pit of your stomach about spending so much money to stay away with a guy you’d been on one date with, but it was all so new and exciting and you just didn’t care. How often did this happen? In your professional life, the odd occasion. In your personal life, absolutely never.

Since your date, the two of you had only managed to see each other for a quick lunch the day after before Tom had to rush off for an interview with Jake. He’d texted you admitting and apologising about his schedule already getting in the way. You’d glanced at the message while you’d settled down in your hotel room with a Chinese takeaway, fully aware that he was enjoying a five star meal on the other side of town with his team. It was difficult and you made it work as much as you could, but there was the thought you’d wasted your time. You even grew the balls to express this to him over the phone on your third night, still yet to physically see him since the very rushed lunch.

“I just feel like I need a break from the city,” Tom said on the other end of the phone.

You sighed. “That’s hardly going to work going by how busy your diary is.” Standing from the edge of the bed, you moved to the large window and looked over the city that never sleeps. From the height you were at, everyone seemed like ants running around in their hectic lives. Somehow it was somewhat peaceful to watch.

“Well I’ll be done for the day in a couple of hours if nothing drastically changes,” came Tom’s reply, coaxing you to look away from a scene of midday road rage down below. “Yeah, that’s what we’ll do. This’ll make up for your shit stay.”

“What? It’s not been-”

“We’ll rent a car and just go somewhere. Stay the night away maybe… I’m not back at work until tomorrow night so it’s doable.”

Stay the night somewhere, just the two of you?

“Okay,” you smiled, absently picking at some paint that was starting to peel away on the windowsill. “Where are we gonna go?”

“We’ll figure that out later. It’ll be awesome! There’ll be no phone calls to interrupt us about work. It’ll just be you and me.”

Your cheeks warmed and a huge grin lit up your face as butterflies fluttered around in your stomach.

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” he asked. Chattering and laughter could be heard in the background so you assumed he was at the studio for an interview. You’d completely forgotten who was interviewing him. The amount of talk shows and famous names Tom had mentioned had all blurred into one. It was like he was on one constant, never ending interview. At least that’s what it felt like. “I just thought… Yeah, actually, you could do the honours and decide where we go. That’ll be your job.”

“Well I was gonna go on a little photography day out around the city, but I suppose I can blow that off.”

“You know you could have come-”

“Yes, yes, I know, Tom. Maybe another time, yeah?”

Although things had felt like they were moving a million miles an hour between you and Tom (even though, ironically, you’d yet to spend more than an hour together during the last few days), you’d wanted to keep some sort of normality in the beginning of your… Whatever this was. Relationship? Definitely not. That’s why you’d put a hold on meeting his friends and family; it was far too soon for that. Tom’s parents were back home in London with his brothers Sam and Paddy, but Harry and his closest friend Harrison had stayed with Tom to travel around the world on the press junket. There had been so many times during your stay in New York where Tom had suggested you hang out with them, just for an hour or so while his work was quiet and more behind the scenes, but you always said no. You explained you just wanted the time to get to know him first. You kept the other half of the reason to yourself. You wanted to spend time alone with him just to be certain it was worth it, that it had the possibility to go somewhere amazing. That was normal, wasn’t it?

Tom’s sigh was barely audible, but you heard it.

“I’m sorry. Just not yet. Anyway, your driving might be awful and you could kill us off before I get a proper chance,” you murmured, smiling a little to yourself.

“My driving will entirely depend on how annoying you are later, darling.”

You could practically hear the smirk on his face. Giving a loud laugh, you shook your head and moved away from the window, kicking some dirty clothes on the floor into the small pile that had built up in the corner. “Go get back to work. I’ll sort the trip out and I’ll see you later.”

Keeping Tom’s work commitments in mind, you chose Philadelphia. It wasn’t too far a drive in case there was an emergency that meant you’d have to shoot back, and through the extremely limited research you’d done, you’d found an exhibition at The Franklin Institute dedicated to the Marvel Universe. In no way was that the deciding factor when it came to picking the destination. No, not at all.

You weren’t entirely sure how busy Tom would be for the rest of the day, so you went ahead and sorted a car and a cheap hotel too, then quickly sent him a message to explain everything had been booked and he could pay you back by buying dinner on the way over. Again, this was exactly how one spent their savings, wasn’t it? They were for fun, spontaneous trips and not for proper adult things.

It felt as though the rest of the day dragged because you were so excited for the road trip. With your small overnight bag packed, you tried to make the time pass as quickly as possible by pottering around the hotel room; watching whatever was on TV, messaging friends, double and triple checking all the bookings were sorted - anything to make the time fly by. After what felt like an age, Tom texted you to let you know he was outside, having picked up the car.

“Okay, before you say anything, I had no control over what car they gave us,” you said after making your way out of the hotel. You stood there and tried to hold back a laugh at the little red Nissan. It wasn’t exactly the cool convertible you’d fantasised about.

“Next time, I’m in charge of the car,” Tom replied with a chuckle as you slid into the passenger seat, closing the door with a slam. He tossed a wrapped burrito onto your lap.

You brought Google Maps up on your phone and found the hotel before setting it on the dashboard, then dug into your food.

“Philadelphia?” Tom questioned, pulling out onto the road. You couldn’t quite explain what it was, but seeing him driving was  _ hot _ . The dark t-shirt he was wearing tightened around his arms, showing off his muscles as he gripped the wheel. “What’s in Philadelphia?”

“You’ll see,” you shrugged and gave him a grin, getting a smile from the boy in return.

Admittedly, you hadn’t thought much about how the visit to the Marvel exhibition would go. Yes, you knew that Tom would love it and be insanely interested in everything going on, but you hadn’t actually thought about the attention his presence would attract. He was Spider-Man after all. If he kept his head down and his hat on then hopefully all would be well.

It took longer than expected to get onto the highway, but when you eventually made it onto the smoother road, you relaxed into your seat and wound your window down to get some fresh, exhaust-filled air into the car.

“I haven’t even asked how your day was,” you said, looking over at Tom. His brow furrowed slightly as he focused intently on the road ahead.

“It was fun, always is, but sometimes I just get a bit bored of being asked the same questions over and over,” he replied, quickly casting his eyes your way before moving his attention back to the road.

“Like whether you and Zendaya are dating?” you smirked and caught the slight shake of his head. You weren’t surprised at how fed up he was of those rumours, having suffered with them for the last few years. “Or what it was like filming in your own home land?”

“I wasn’t aware of how much you were keeping up with all my interviews.”

“Well I’ve got to pass the time somehow.”

He chuckled. “I appreciate people have set questions and all, but the more creative ones are always better.” He reached over and fiddled with the radio, pressing a few buttons until it connected with his phone. “Go on, you can be the DJ. No pressure, but this could make or break us.”

“I wasn’t aware there  _ was _ anything to make or break.” His snort of laughter made you grin and you took his phone to open up Spotify so you could have a nosy through his playlists. “Bit of a Destiny’s Child fan, are you?”

“Isn’t everyone?”

Well you couldn’t argue with that. You took the time to make a quick playlist and queued some songs, mixing it up a little and playing music from old school noughties hits to cheesy pop to classic rock anthems, throwing a bit of Destiny’s Child in there just to make him smile. As the beat of the music hit you, the both of you loosened up and started dancing stupidly in your seats, singing in funny voices to imitate the stars of your childhood. When it came to the first word of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody bursting through the speakers, you both stopped your movements and instantly joined in, as though part of the band. The ballad started and with that, so did the dramatics. Moving your arms and singing as loudly as you possibly could, you both fought for who would be the next Freddie Mercury and the fact you didn’t have the instruments there in the car didn’t stop you and Tom from playing them in the air - at least as much as he could without taking both hands off the wheel. There wasn’t a care in the world for what cars driving by thought of the couple of weirdos completely going for it. The guitar solo came and you had to admit, you were much better at air guitar than he was, but he could sing the higher notes far better. The music faded and you both burst into laughter.

“Wow, that was… Bad,” Tom laughed, forehead shining with sweat from his performance. “I don’t think you actually hit one note right just then.”

“Alright, Beyoncé,” you giggled and reached over to push his shoulder.

“Well I didn’t get the role of Billy Elliot for no reason,” he grinned cheekily and you laughed loudly before giving him another shove. His grin broadened as he grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. You didn’t pull away. He gave it a squeeze and placed your hand back on your lap, though instead of putting his back on the wheel, he settled it on your knee, where it remained for the rest of the drive.

The sun had just started to lower when you parked up in front of the hotel, casting a golden hue over everything in sight. Tom’s dark eyes sparkled in the light and you caught flecks of hazel in them. They were beautiful. He gave you a warm smile, eyes squinting slightly, and he squeezed your knee one final time before getting out of the car to get the bags.

“Are you going to tell me why we’ve come here yet?” he asked, following you into the hotel.

“You’ll see soon. We’ll just dump our stuff and head out, yeah? You’ll like it, I promise.” 

You headed over to the front desk so you could check in. After giving your name and ID, the receptionist found your reservation on the computer. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly. “There seems to be a little bit of a mix up with your room,” she said, looking up and glancing between the two of you. “The room that’s been booked for you is a double room instead of the twin room you requested.”

“Okay, well can it be changed?” you asked and tried not to get too flustered.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but all the twin rooms are fully booked.”

“But I booked-”

“It’s okay,” Tom interjected, stepping slightly closer to the desk. He shot the receptionist a smile. “We’ll just have the double. I can sleep in the bath or outside or something,” he chuckled and you shook your head, biting back a smile. Not that you would let it happen, but you knew he one hundred percent would sleep outside in the hall if you asked him to.

Tom picked up your bags and carried them up to the room. Seeing the large double bed with towels rolled up into two swans that connected at the beak to make a heart, your face flamed and you scratched the back of your head awkwardly. “I guess I’ll take the couch,” you murmured and stared at the sorry-looking piece of furniture that Tom tossed the bags onto.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “You get the bed.”

“I’m the only one small enough to be able to stretch out on it. For once, it seems you’re actually too tall for something.”

“If you want to talk about our heights, just let me know because I’ve got a whole file up in here filled with jokes about you,” he grinned, tapping the side of his head.

“Wow, a whole file dedicated to me?” you sighed dramatically and placed a hand over your heart. “I’m touched, Tom. Really, I am.”

“Oh piss off,” he laughed and pulled off his hat to fluff his hair up a little, only to then put the cap back on. “Come on, it’s time for you to show me why I had to put up with your horrible singing for the longest two hours of my life.”

To keep things a secret, you took control of the car and drove to the Franklin Institute. With every passing sign for the exhibit or civilian you drove past with some sort of Marvel item of clothing on, you broke into a cold sweat, but Tom didn’t mentioned anything whether he noticed or not. Going by the quiet singing to himself and tapping away on his phone he was doing, he seemed not to catch on, which was great. Even when you pulled up in the parking lot and there was a sign for the exhibit mere meters away from the car, he got out obliviously. You gave a breath of a laugh. God, he was blind.

“Have we come all this way for a museum?” he asked and followed you out of the parking garage. All you did was flash him a grin, giving nothing away. 

“Okay, the only thing I’m gonna say is to keep your hat on,” you told him when you walked around to the front of the building. Groups of people of all ages passed by, rushing to get inside or chatting with each other after just leaving the exhibit. You caught a glimpse of Tom, squinting at the taller boy, the setting sun making it almost impossible to see properly. But you saw the confused expression ghost his features after a couple of young children ran between the two of you in Captain America costumes, shield and all.

“[Y/N], where are we?”

You grabbed a hold of his arm and gave it a squeeze, feeling the hard muscles under the skin. “I know you might be a bit sick of work and you wanted a break, but I just couldn’t help myself,” you grinned and gave a laugh when he finally spotted one of the many signs advertising the Marvel exhibit. When he didn’t show immediate signs of elation, you bit your lower lip nervously. Was this a bad idea? “We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to… I’m sure there’s plenty of other things to do here…”

“What? No, no, this is awesome!” Tom assured you and pulled his arm from your grip so he could wrap it around your shoulders. “Sorry, just took me a second to read it properly.” Ah, that explained it. He’d only ever briefly mentioned his dyslexia in passing comments a few times before.

You moved an arm around his waist and tried to ignore your stomach flipping at the warmth his chest brought. “Well just be sure you keep that hat on, Holland.”

Walking along the red carpet, you followed the small crowd into the first room where people fought over to get the best view of Marvel’s first published comic book. Even Tom had to hold himself back from lunging forward to press his nose right up against the glass case. You took photos together in front of the artifacts, pulling faces in a few but gave your best smile for the rest. It was strange being so close to the props and costumes used in the films, even more so due to the fact you were wandering around with one of the stars. As you slowly made your way through the rooms, Tom quietly told you some behind-the-scenes stories of his time on set, including some of the pranks the older guys played on him just because he was the baby of the group. It was near enough impossible not to smile goofily at every word. His excitement and pure adoration for the entire Marvel Universe was adorable.

In the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar red and blue costume peeking out from the next room. You didn’t think twice about grabbing a hold of Tom’s hand to drag him through to the other area and you didn’t pay attention to the fact he didn’t let go once you’d stopped in front of Spider-Man sculpture hanging upside down from the ceiling. He squeezed your hand, beaming.

“It says it’s life-size, but clearly they’re picturing Spider-Man to be of normal human height,” you teased and he rolled his eyes.

“Again with the height thing?” he questioned, raising a brow. “It’s not like you’re one to talk, short arse.”

You scanned the room quickly and noticed a handful of people looking your way, some even having the nerve to point. You sighed quietly. “Okay, I think this is actually the last room anyway so come on, I’ve got to get a picture of you with this Spider-Man,” you said, giving him a smile. “And then we’ll go before someone starts a scene.”

“I might as well come out of hiding then since we’re going anyway.” Tom took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair to fix the curls. A few squeals and excited chatter could instantly be heard and you tried your best to ignore it, not wanting to ruin your time together. He stood next to the sculpture and grinned away as you (and fans all around) snapped some photos, laughing softly when he gave a peace sign or pulled the infamous Spider-Man pose, pretending to shoot a web. 

“You’re such a poser,” you snorted after he’d finished his mini photoshoot. All Tom could do was laugh before his attention was pulled away by the fans asking for photos and signatures. You even heard someone request he phone their mother. Was it rude to ask them to leave him alone so he could enjoy the rest of his  date day with you? Sensing your almost overwhelming need to leave, he caught your eye and then began to say his goodbyes to the small crowd that had built up around him. After a few final waves and a couple of last photographs with some of the younger visitors, he slipped his fingers through yours and left the museum.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t get recognised at all,” you said once you’d set off in the car. Your hand felt cold without his comforting grip. “Although I suppose we can count ourselves lucky it only happened at the end.”

Tom’s grin had yet to leave his face since you’d hurried out of the exhibition and he reached over, placing his hand on your knee. Your skin burned and you craved his touch even more. “I don’t even care. It was really cool! Putting me through your shit singing was more than worth it.”

He talked non-stop the whole drive back to the hotel, speaking animatedly about his favourite props and how much of a Spider-Man fan he’d been as a child. It was heart-warming to know how big of an impact the superhero had on Tom since before he could even speak, and now he was that same character being a huge part of millions of people’s lives.

It was only when Tom opened the door to the room that you remembered the whole double bed situation. As though reading your mind, he grabbed one of the pillows and headed towards the bathroom, but you clutched his arm to stop his movements. “No, don’t be silly, we’ll just share the bed,” you told him and pushed a piece of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “But you better keep your hands to yourself, Holland.”

After insisting you change into your pyjamas in the bathroom, you came out wearing an old One Direction concert t-shirt that was nearly a decade old and had more holes in than members of the band, and a pair of Christmas-patterned shorts. You stopped on the spot when you saw Tom. He’d managed to pack some bottoms, but clearly he had no idea what a t-shirt was. The hard muscles on his stomach made your mouth water. You’d seen him topless the first time you met, but this was different… This was more intimate.

“Just so you don’t feel awkward,” Tom said, pulling your attention away from his abs. He gestured towards the bed where he’d laid the spare pillows down the middle as some sort of soft wall. It wasn’t necessary and that’s what made you feel even more touched at the gesture.

You turned off the lights and climbed into bed with him, the wall of pillows somehow making you feel even closer. He shuffled around to try and get comfortable. You lay on your back, stiff and silent. When he’d rolled over for the seventh time, you gave a sigh and turned on your side. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness so you could just about see his silhouette. “Okay, I take it back, you can go and sleep in the bath,” you whispered, reaching over the pillows to push his shoulder.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to sleeping next to a wall.”

“It’s hardly a tower of bricks. Deal with it.” Unable to stop yourself, you give him another push just for good measure. He swiftly grabbed your hand and held your arm out so he could easily tickly your armpit, making you squeal with laughter. “You can’t do that!” you giggled and pulled your arm back, keeping it safe and sound on your side of the wall. 

“You invaded my territory!”

“Yeah, to shut you up!”

A squeak of surprise came out when a pillow hit you right in the face. Being the mature adult you were, the only way to react was obviously to hit him back. He laughed and tried to move out of the way when you went to whack him again, though the groan he released gave a clear indication that the target had been hit. With barely enough time to celebrate, he’d pounced. His fingers dug into your sides, tickling you mercilessly, and you laughed loudly, squirming beneath him. You reached out blindly and tried to get him back, to find his weak spot. He yelped and you laughed triumphantly as you went to tickle his ribs again. His hands grabbed yours and pinned them to the bed beside your head. He moved his body on top of yours to keep your from jumping at the first chance you got to tickle him again

Then you stopped.

The only sound breaking the tense silence was your uneven panting. Your chests rose and fell heavily. Your legs had somehow tangled and his hot breath tickled your skin, causing goosebumps to rise all over your body. His grip loosened on your wrists and he swallowed thickly before tentatively leaning down, hand moving to lightly cup your jaw and tilt your head up higher. His lips pressed against yours in a gentle kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

London hadn’t changed. It never did. The rain always seemed to be present and the sun constantly hid behind the grey clouds. It was supposed to be summer, wasn’t it? You’d been back home for nearly two weeks now and not a single day went by where you didn’t speak to Tom. He always managed to make time for a phone call or FaceTime no matter what country he was in. Neither of you had tried to discuss exactly what you were, which was something you were actually glad about; it was too important a conversation to have over a connection that could easily fail at any given moment. No, it was best to wait until you saw each other again.

The sound of thunder echoed in the city and feeling the first drops of rain splash on your nose, you pulled an umbrella from your backpack and opened it just in time for the rain to start pelting. A young boy ahead in the street grabbed onto his mother’s hand for dear life, whining about not wanting to get his “Spidey” coat wet. The red and blue coat brought a small smile to your face and you couldn’t help but think back to the night you’d spent with Tom in Philadelphia.

_ The second Tom’s lips touched yours, you just knew from that point onwards, you were his. It was like every kiss you’d ever had in the past was wrong and this one was making up for all those mistakes, taunting and showing you what you’d been missing out on. His lips were like a drug and it scared you how much you craved them, already wanting more before this fix was even over. _

_ His tongue slipped into your mouth, gentle but demanding all the same. You gasped quietly. Every inch of your body dissolved into his. He pushed his weight onto you as your hands found their way into his hair, tugging on the thick curls. He gave a groan and you smiled against his lips; it immediately became one of your favourite sounds. His hand slid down your side, grabbing your hip, your leg, your bum - anything he could get a hold of. He pulled you closer, pressing his hips against you. _

_ “Wait, Tom, wait,” you whispered hurriedly, though couldn’t bring yourself to break away from his glorious lips. _

_ He moved back slightly. You could still feel his breath on your skin, but the sudden parting made you feel cold. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly and you were thankful for the lack of light just so you couldn’t see the hurt on his face that was evident in his voice. “Did I… Should I not have-” _

_ “What? No, no, it’s not that,” you interrupted, absently twirling a curl at the nape of his neck around your fingers. “I just… I just don’t want this to be a one night stand. I don’t want to go home regretting this.” _

_ “I don’t want this to be a one night stand either,” he replied and gave you a chaste kiss on the lips before sitting up. He reached over to the bedside table and turned on the lamp. “I wasn’t planning on taking it that far, as much as I want to,” he sighed and ran a hand over his flushed face as he shot you a wicked smile. _

_ “Oh I know you want to, I could feel how much you want to against my hip,” you snorted and chanced a glance down at his crotch. The strain against his boxers made your mouth water, but you knew it was the best decision to stop things before they went too far. _

_ “I can’t control it,” he laughed and shook his head, grinning now. The redness of his cheeks deepened and you could only imagine how flustered you looked in comparison. “But you’re right, we’ll stop.” His dark eyes scanned the room and landed on the pillows scattered across the floor. “Want me to build the wall again?” _

_ “I’m sure we’ll manage to control ourselves.” _

_ “I know I will, I just don’t know if I can trust you,” he smirked, sending you a wink. As you rolled your eyes, he leaned over to turn the light off again before getting comfortable in bed next to you. After a brief pause, he rolled over and pulled you into his chest, spooning you without a word. Despite the sudden pent up frustration that would only be solved by the man whose arms you were in, you had one of the best nights’ sleep in a long time. _

You could hear the squeal of laughter from your little brother before you’d even managed to get to the house, the sound loud enough to make it two houses down the street. It had been weeks since you’d seen them, maybe even a month. Life had just gotten in the way. It was hard, even though you did only live a few miles apart. Letting yourself into the townhouse, you sang a hello and grinned at the little boy who instantly came running through into the hallway, throwing himself at you. “Hey, little man,” you beamed and pressed a kiss into his curly mop of brown hair. You lifted him up a little higher and groaned quietly. “God, you’re getting heavy, Oliver. Soon you’ll be bigger than me!”

“Daddy says that,” he giggled and tightened his arms around your neck, almost cutting off your oxygen supply as he hugged you. 

“Olly, don’t smother her.” Your mother, Julia, appeared and wrapped you up in a gentle hug as though to show Olly that not everything needed squeezing like a pimple. “It’s been a while, love.”

“Well you know how work gets sometimes,” you hummed and carried Olly back into the front room, setting him down on the couch that was piled with his toys and books. “Dad working?”

“Yeah, he’s got a big case on at the minute,” Julia said and gave a nod in the direction of the hallway, telling you he was in his office. “I wouldn’t go in yet though, I got an earful for bringing him a cup of tea. He said I was distracting him.”

You smiled and shook your head a little. It was always best to leave your father alone when he was busy on a case to avoid getting your head bitten off. Daniel had been a criminal lawyer since way before you’d been brought home and yet after all this time, he still had trouble separating his work life from his private one. Once he got a case, that’s all he cared about. Of course, he wasn’t completely inhumane and forced himself an hour away to do Oliver’s bedtime routine every night without fail. So you could forgive him for that.

You mother, on the other hand, had always made time for her children. She’d even given up her job when she found out she was pregnant with Olly. He wasn’t expected at all, what with Julia having suffered through a horrendous amount of miscarriages for years previously, so she’d decided to take the time to rest in fear of anything blowing the good luck. The original plan had been for her to start looking for jobs when he turned one, but he was now three and she’d yet to send a single application. 

“I’m half expecting him to shout about me closing the front door being a big distraction,” you chuckled and sat on the couch to let Olly drive a toy truck along your thigh. 

“Wouldn’t surprise me. So, what’s been keeping you so busy these days?” Julia took a seat on the recliner, relaxing into the cushion. “Nothing to do with a boy, is it?” The twinkle in her eye and smirk on her face made your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Mum!” Even though you were a grown woman, there was nothing like the humiliation of a mother wanting to discuss boys with her daughter.

“Olivia popped in the other day,” she explained, chuckling gently. “She was passing and stayed for a bit and just happened to mention you gallivanting around America with a boy. She refused to tell me about him, though. Promised you she wouldn’t say anything, she said.”

“I wasn’t  _ gallivanting _ .”

“Do I at least get a name?”

“Alright, his name’s Tom,” you murmured, coming up with a plan to murder Olivia without leaving any kind of evidence that would lead back to you. An afternoon with your father’s files would surely help you with that. “We met when I did that shoot for GQ, the one over in California.”

“Wait… Tom… Tom… Why does that sound familiar?” Julia asked and frowned a little. “Wait, is it  _ this _ Tom?” She got up and went into the kitchen, returning a moment later with the magazine. You’d forgotten it went to print this month.

“Why do you have this?” you asked, avoiding her question. 

“We always keep your work.”

The comment brought a smile to your face and you took the magazine, staring at the handsome actor on the cover. His curls were gelled slightly but the wind had caused them to mess up, making him look even cuter. You could remember him moaning about having to wear a leather jacket in the heat, only shutting up after you threatened to photoshop devil horns onto the images. Feeling the questioning gaze of your mother, you looked up at her and then gave a quiet sigh. “Okay, yes it’s him. He was working over in America the same time I was, he was doing some press stuff, so I just extended my stay.”

“He must be a keeper then for you to do that,” Julia smirked and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. 

“He’s nice, Mum,” you told her and tossed the magazine onto the wooden coffee table. “We’ve seen each other a few times, I think I’m seeing him again this week at some point when he’s gotten over the jet lag.”

“Why don’t you invite him over for dinner?”

“Mum,  _ I’ve _ not even been out to dinner with him yet. Give us a chance.”

“Well what were you doing while you were over the- Actually, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know!”

“We weren’t doing  _ that _ !” you squeaked and buried your face in Olly’s hair to hide your flaming cheeks. He giggled quietly and took the opportunity to wrap you up in another tight hug. “We didn’t actually spend that much time together. He was working a lot… We went out for lunch one of the days, but it was a bit rushed since he had leave for an interview. The only dinner we’ve actually had is a burrito in the car. Nothing particularly… Romantic.”

“What weren’t you doing?” Olly asked innocently, looking up at you with his big brown eyes. 

“We weren’t buying you presents, that’s what,” you replied and tapped his nose. “But I’ll make up for it. How about we go shopping? I’ll buy you whatever you want, within reason.”

His face lit up with a big grin and he jumped up on the couch before pouncing, happily attacking you with a shriek. “Can I get a big car?” he asked, voice high and loud and clearly excited.

“As long as it’s a toy one, yes,” you promised and he hopped off the couch before running out of the room, barely slowing down when Julia shouted after him not to run in the house. You followed him up the stairs to his bedroom and pulled a woolly jumper over his t-shirt, then helped him into a pair of shiny yellow wellies. After zipping up his matching raincoat, you said goodbye to Julia and left the house hand in hand. 

It didn’t take too long to get into the city centre, thankful you only had to catch one train instead of rushing around for multiple. Even though it was the middle of the week, it was still busy, but what else would expect from London? Keeping a tight hold of Olly’s hand, you wormed your way through the tourists and workers on their lunch break, eventually making it to Hamleys. As soon as you stepped through the doorway, screaming children and scolding parents could be heard. There were a number of birthday parties being held and as much as you loved children, you couldn’t think of anything worse to experience. Seeing the bored looking parents made you laugh quietly to yourself. With a promise not to run out of sight, Olly let go of your hand and headed straight over to the Lego, gazing up at the creations in amazement. The vibrations of your phone in your back pocket caught your attention and you pulled it out, smiling at the name on the screen.

“You not forgotten all about me yet?” you asked Tom and you couldn’t help but grin when you heard his laugh.

“Not yet, no. Maybe by the end of the week. We’ll see.” 

“So to what do I owe the pleasure?” Keeping your eye on Olly, you moved over to sit on one of the empty chairs by the escalator. “I thought you’d be sleeping your jet lag off.”

“I thought so too but I wanted to see you instead,” he replied and your stomach flipped at the softness of his voice. Whether it was down to fatigue or genuine sentiment, you didn’t care. “So are you free?”

“Well I’m actually out with my brother at the minute,” you said. “I promised to buy him a toy but I can tell you now, he’ll definitely work a few more than one into the basket. He knows how to get his own way with me.”

Tom gave another hearty laugh. “That’s what kids are meant to do! But I can… I can, um, come meet you if you want?”

“What, really?” You hadn’t expected him to be up for shopping with your little brother. Well, you hadn’t actually expected him to call today since he only landed home the night before. “I mean, we’re literally just gonna be wanderi- Olly, come back please! Stay where I can see you.” You sighed a little and Tom chuckled quietly on the other end of the phone. “Sorry, he’s a bugger for walking off. But as I was saying, we’re just shopping for him and he tends to take about two hours deciding which socks he wants to wear in the mornings, so picking which toy he wants is gonna be a big one.”

“I don’t mind, I just want to see you.”

“Gosh, does being tired also make you incredibly needy?”

“I’m afraid so, [Y/N].”

“Well I suppose it’s something I’ll just have to deal with,” you smirked and got up from the chair when Olly ran off again. It was easier just to follow him than try and make him stay in one section for more than five minutes. “We’ll probably still be in Hamleys by the time you get here.”

“I won’t be long, I promise.” With a goodbye, he hung up and you slid your phone back into your pocket.

True to his word, Tom managed to find you just as you’d convinced Olly to go onto the next floor of the shop, sneakily steering him away from the ridiculously expensive teddy bears. He wasn’t much of a teddy person, but you didn’t want to risk getting persuaded into spending a month’s rent on a bear that would only collect dust at the end of his bed. Tom made his way over just as you tried to pull down a jigsaw from a shelf that was a little bit too high.

“Need any help?” came his voice from behind and you spun around with a grin. He reached up and grabbed the box. You held back your comment about him having to stand on his toes, too.

“What do you say, Olly?” you coaxed as Tom held out the puzzle box to the small boy.

“Thank you,” Olly whispered and instead of taking the jigsaw, he hugged your leg tightly and hid his face against your thigh.

You gave Tom an apologetic smile, but he just shook his head and crouched down to Olly’s height. “I don’t bite, I promise,” he said gently and placed the box down onto the floor between them. “I’m Tom, I’m your sister’s friend. She’s told me loads about you,” he grinned and Olly turned his head a little to glance at the stranger. “She’s told me how much you love cars. They’re pretty cool, huh?”

“ _ Really _ cool,” Olly corrected quietly, making Tom’s face brighten. He loosened his grip on your leg and faced Tom properly, trusting him now more than anyone else in the world because he liked cars just as he did. He picked the jigsaw up from the floor and held it close to his chest. “Will you help me with this?”

“We have to pay for it first, Ol,” you chuckled and ruffled his hair before looking up at Tom, who’d stood back up straight. Despite speaking near enough all day every day and talking about everything from work to space conspiracy theories, all you could think to say was a soft, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he laughed and, much to Olly’s disgust, leaned over to give you a peck on the lips.

“Mummy says we don’t kiss friends,” Olly spoke up, looking between the two of you with a slight frown.

“Tom’s a special friend,” you explained and gave his curls another ruffle. “Why don’t you see if you can go find another toy? One more and that’s it.” As Olly hurried over to the Toy Story figurines, you pulled Tom into a tight hug. God, you’d missed him. The feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist was something you loved and couldn’t even begin to picture yourself in anyone else’s.

“Olly’s cute,” Tom smiled when you finally forced yourself to move back. “He’s got your eyes.”

“Okay, now I know you’re just being polite,” you snorted and gave his shoulder a light shove. The confused look that crossed his features made you laugh. “Come on, I know you weren’t expecting him to look like that. In fact, I’m surprised I didn’t catch that look sooner that everyone always has when they meet him, or anyone else in my family.”

“What d’you mean?” he asked, though it was pretty obvious he completely understood what you were talking about.

“He’s not my biological brother,” you hummed and leaned back against a table of toys, crossing your arms loosely over your chest. “The stark contrast of skin colour sort of gives it away. Well, I suppose he could have been my half brother,” you shrugged. “But no. I’m actually adopted.” The second floor of a Hamleys wasn’t exactly the place you’d imagined having this conversation, but you were so comfortable with the subject that it wasn’t an issue.

“Adopted? How come you never mentioned it?” he asked and you caught the look in his eye that you hated, the one that you used to receive all the time when children in school would question your parentage. You’d always been aware of where you came from and it took you until your high school years to understand that not everyone would accept it straight away, and not instantly pity the poor little adopted girl.

“Because of that look you just gave me!” you laughed and held your hand up when he went to respond, “I’m used to it, don’t worry. I know it’s just a sort of reflex thing. I was around Olly’s age when Mum and Dad took me in, so I don’t know anything different. As far as I’m aware, they’re my real parents.”

His face softened and he went to reach for your hand, but Olly came running over, shouting excitedly about the Buzz Lightyear figure he’d found. His pudgy fingers took a hold of yours and using all his strength, he pulled you over to the shelves. After the hard decision of choosing which of the identical toys he wanted, Olly eventually picked “the best one” and threw it into the basket.

“Do you like superheroes, Olly?” Tom asked as you all carried on making your way through the aisles.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the question, though managed to hold your laugh back. Of course he’d ask about that. It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if he tried to convert Olly into Spider-Man’s number one fan.

“Capt’n ‘merica is cool!” Olly grinned and ran circles around you both, throwing punches in the air as though he was the hero himself. 

Tom chuckled and stepped away from your side to join in the fun. He swiped a Captain America shield from the Marvel display and gave it to Olly, then grabbed one of the Thor hammers. “No one can beat the mighty Thor!” he proclaimed, deepening his voice. He slowly aimed the hammer at the shield and dramatically threw himself back a couple feet when the plastic collided. He’d been defeated. 

“Gosh, it’s like looking after two children! And it also looks like Captain America is the best of all the Avengers,” you smirked and high fived Olly. “Maybe even better than Spider-Man.”

“What? That’s not true!” You couldn’t tell whether Tom was really offended or not, and that’s what made you laugh harder. “Olly, who’s better: Spider-Man or Captain America?”

“Capt’n ‘merica,” the boy replied without a second thought, hugging the shield close.

“I beg to differ,” he mumbled with a pout.

“I’m sure the opinion of a three year old who’s only seen about ten minutes total of the whole franchise really matters to you,” you teased and reached over to pat his cheek. He replaced his pout with a grin and finally took a hold of your hand, slipping his fingers between yours as you walked over to pay for Olly’s new toys. 

“Hey, hey, what are you doing?” you asked as soon as you saw Tom take out his wallet after the toys had been scanned and packed away in a bag.

“Um, paying?” 

“No you’re not. Put your wallet away.”

“But he destroyed me in a fight, it’s only fair.”

Unable to argue back, you gave a heavy sigh and put your purse back in your backpack. Tom paid for the toys and you left the shop with two bags and an extremely giddy child. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still painted grey, casting a gloomy shadow over the busy street. With Olly’s hand in yours and the bags in Tom’s, you headed left to follow the majority of the crowd.

“Now what do you say to Tom, Olly?” you asked, giving the singing boy a pointed look.

“Thank you, Tommy!” he grinned and began skipping along the pavement, the anticipation of playing with his new toys vibrating from his small body.

“Just don’t go fighting too many baddies, leave some for the rest of the Avengers,” Tom told him and Olly just nodded his head a little, though was barely listening.

“I need to take him back home,” you said to Tom, stopping on the pavement for a moment to let Olly pet a dog. The dog sniffed his hand and then scurried off. “You want to come back? We won’t be long and then afterwards… I don’t know, we could do something?”

Tom struggled to hide his smile and he nodded. “I know what we could do, but I’ll tell you later.”

All the way back to your parents’ house, you found it near enough impossible to stop wondering about what he had planned. He’d only been back in London since the night before, so that didn’t exactly give him plenty of time to plan anything big. Whatever it was, you knew it would be fun. After the three of you stepped off the train at the station, you took your time walking back to the house, laughing with Olly as he sang the wrong words to his favourite Disney songs. He begged and begged to be swung, so you each took a hold of his hands and lifted him high, swinging him over the puddles until you got to the garden fence. When he realised he was back home, he ran ahead and hurried inside.

“Don’t be so nervous,” you laughed, catching Tom’s brief look of fear that swept over his face. “God, what is it about meeting parents that makes people so scared?”

“I’m not scared, I’m just trying to think of the best escape route… You know, just in case.”

“You’ll be fine.” You reached over and squeezed his hand, then led him into the house. Olly could be heard in the living room, talking a million miles an hour about his day. Julia laughed as she listened to the boy’s story, already asking questions about his new toys, which just excited him even more. You looked at Tom and laughed at how terrified he seemed, then gave him a nudge, pushing him towards the living room.

“[Y/N], you’ve spoile-  _ Oh _ , hello!” Julia chuckled when she spotted Tom standing awkwardly in the doorway. He was the last person she’d expected.

You gave him another push and followed him into the room, smiling a little sheepishly. “Mum, this is Tom. Tom, this is my mum Julia.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Julia,” Tom said and pushed his nervousness aside as he smiled at the older woman. Was this how he dealt with new, uncomfortable situations, by putting his acting skills to the test? If so, he was doing brilliantly.

“And you too. Come in, stop standing there, you can sit down,” she said and nodded over at the couch. She’d cleaned up Olly’s toys since you’d been out, but Olly was beginning to make up for it by taking them all out of the toybox again, putting them back in their rightful place on the floor. He’d already forgotten about his new presents.

“Also, I didn’t spoil him,” you told Julia and took a seat next to Tom. “Tom wanted to treat him. Olly won him in a fight so that was the prize, though I’m pretty sure that wasn’t agreed upon beforehand.”

“Well it’s only fair for him to win something cool,” Tom chuckled, leaning back on the cushions. “Even if it wasn’t a Spider-Man costume.”

“I don’t like Spider-Man,” Olly piped up. He finished pulling all his toys from the box and looked around to decide which one he wanted to play with, then after a moment, scurried over to the newest additions.

“You don’t like Spider-Man? But he’s-”

“Are you really going to argue with a toddler?” you questioned, brow raised. 

Tom gave a quiet sigh and visibly struggled to agree on how he’d respond, then his shoulders sagged a little in defeat. “No.”

“He changes his likes and dislikes every day, so I wouldn’t get too offended,” Julia laughed and got up from the chair to start packing away Olly’s abandoned toys. “Are you staying for dinner?”

“No, we’re actually gonna head off,” you replied. “Only came to pop in for a minute, I’ll come round for dinner next week. I’ll even bring food over.”

“Oh, well it was nice to see you, Tom, for all of two seconds,” Julia laughed and showed you both out, stopping at the front door to give you a hug and a kiss. “Maybe by next week she won’t be scared I’ll say something embarrassing and might actually bring you over for dinner, and let you stay for more than five minutes,” she said to Tom with a chuckle and, ever the hugger, wrapped Tom up in her arms briefly.

“You know I can hear you, right?” you hummed and they both laughed. “See you soon, Mum.” After another kiss, you waved goodbye and left the house with Tom. When you got to the train station, you followed him onto the right train, still having no idea where you were going now. Did he even know or was he just winging it? “So what are we doing?” you asked impatiently once your train took off.

“I’m surprised you managed to hold off asking until this point,” he laughed and stretched his legs out in front of him, relaxing in the seat. He looked out of the window. “I thought since you let me meet some of your family, why not let you meet mine?”

The colour drained from your face. That definitely wasn’t what you’d expected. Why didn’t he let you prepare, to at least change your outfit so you didn’t smell of the city? Had he forgotten about you wanting to wait? Neither of you had actually discussed what sort of relationship you had, if any, so was now really the best time to meet his family?

“And  _ you _ told  _ me _ not to be scared.”

You looked up from your hands to see him grinning cheekily. “I’m not  _ scared _ .”

“You look like you’re about to pass out! I just thought I’d give you warning instead of just throwing you in at the deep end, and just so you know, she’s the most important woman in my life.”

“What? You can’t do that to me! I need at least a week’s notice!”

“And her opinion matter most to me,” he continued as though you hadn’t uttered a word. “I’ve brought home a few girls in the past who she really didn’t like and I just… I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t get along with her.”

Of course you could understand that. If a guy you brought home didn’t get on with your mum, that would be a huge issue for you. You prayed you clicked with his mum. “Well I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“I’ll make sure she’s on hers.”

You continued to quiz Tom for the rest of the journey, but he gave absolutely nothing away. No tips, hints or tricks on how to make the best first impression. Nothing. And it frustrated you to no end. You pictured his mother laughing at the sight of you, telling her son that he was crazy for even thinking about bringing you home to meet her. Then he’d join in, both knowing he was far too good for you. Yeah, that’s exactly what would happen. There was no doubt about it. Your questioning didn’t halt when the train did, and you carried on questioning him as you walked along the streets. You didn’t even notice he’d stopped until you bumped into his back mid-sentence.

“Home sweet home,” he winked and skipped up the few steps to the front door. When he slipped the key into the lock, he paused and turned back to you. “Now don’t be nervous, I’m sure she’ll love you.”

You took a quiet, deep breath as he pushed the door open and you followed him inside the house. Scratching on the wooden floor could be heard and within seconds of Tom shutting the door behind you, a small dog came scurrying into the hallway. She barked excitedly, tail wagging so hard that her whole body shook. The ecstatic dog jumped up against Tom’s leg and he bent down to scratch her ears and give her a cuddle.

“[Y/N], meet Tessa,” he grinned and started rubbing Tessa’s belly on the floor. She continued wiggling around, unsure of whether she wanted to be petted or hugged more.

You stared at the couple. The love between them could almost be physically felt, but you looked between Tom and Tessa in confusion. “Wait, this is who I’m meeting?” you asked and suddenly burst out laughing. He grinned up at you. “This is the most important woman in your life?”

“Well yeah. You didn’t think I meant anyone else, did you?” His grin turned into a sly smirk and you wanted to slap him and kiss him and just laugh. You stuck with the latter.

Tessa scrambled up as though she only just noticed your presence and bounded over to sniff your legs. When she decided you smelled good enough, she barked happily and, chuckling softly, you knelt down to give her a proper greeting. For as long as you could remember, Staffy’s had been one of those breeds that people warned others to stay away from, that they were dangerous and shouldn’t be kept as pets, but Tessa proved all those idiots wrong. She was so friendly and seemed to want to give as much love as she could.

“She’s gorgeous,” you beamed and sat down on the floor. Tessa whined and shuffled closer, pushing her nose under your hand so you’d get back to scratching her. “And needy.”

“She just loves her cuddles,” he said and stood watching you with a warm smile that lit up his entire face. “I do have a couch, you know. I’ve heard it’s comfier than the floor, but whatever floats your boat.”

“Come on, Tessa!” you grinned and pushed yourself up, much to the dog’s disappointment. She ran after you into the other room and jumped up on the couch to curl into your side, completely content with her new found friend.

“I didn’t think I’d actually feel jealous.” Tom relaxed by your feet and tried to get Tessa to go to him, but she was having none of it. “Okay, I might just have to kick you out, you can’t steal my Tessa away from me!”

“Well can you blame her?” you laughed and stretched your legs out over his lap.

“No, I really can’t.”

Being in Tom’s home added a whole new level to your relationship. It was like seeing a side of him that barely anyone else saw, only those close to him. Framed family photos stood along the fireplace and a small stack of scripts and books sat on the coffee table between the couch and television, which he’d switched on to show New Girl (“It’s my guilty pleasure, don’t give me that look.”). Tessa’s bed had been placed in front of the fireplace, though clearly she wasn’t shy about settling on the couch instead. There wasn’t much clutter, it was nice and tidy, but still completely  _ Tom _ .

“Do you mind if I ask about your parents?”

The curtains had been closed, a Chinese takeaway had been ordered and you’d watched so many episodes of New Girl that you’d told Netflix two times that yes, you  _ were _ still watching. During each episode, you’d shifted positions so that eventually you lay curled up against his side with his arm wrapped snugly around your shoulders. Tessa moved whenever you did until she settled in the space between your bent legs and bum. It was easy and it was comfortable and it felt so normal. The conversation flowed easily and you didn’t even have to think about holding anything back. When he brought up that question, you looked over at him and shrugged a shoulder, inviting him to continue.

“How come… No, that sounds horrible,” he frowned and shook his head, trying to come up with a better way to phrase his question. You knew exactly what he wanted to ask, only because you’d heard it so many times before.

“How come they adopted me when they could have a baby of their own?”

“It sounds horrible. I don’t mean it like that, you know I don’t.”

“I know, don’t worry. It’s something practically everyone wants to know,” you chuckled, not offended by any means. He relaxed at your reassurance and absently ran the tips of his fingers along your arm, tickling you lightly. “Mum was always told she couldn’t have kids,” you explained, snuggling Tessa a little closer. “They tried for years and years before they even thought of adopting. I think they’d thought of going down the surrogate route, but I don’t think Mum liked the idea of someone else carrying her baby. I guess with adoption you don’t see that, you’re just given the end product,” you chuckled. “But yeah, Olly was a big surprise. She found out she was pregnant on her forty-sixth birthday. Everyone thought she was crazy for going through with it, but he’s her little miracle baby,” you smiled and nudged your elbow against his side when he stopped tickling.

He got back to it. “Do you remember what it was like before your Mum and Dad?” he asked a little hesitantly.

“You don’t have to be shy about asking questions, I’m really okay with being adopted. It’s not like I can do anything about it,” you said. “But yeah, I remember a tiny bit. Not much since I was only three, but I remember my bedroom and some of the other kids. Not their faces, I just remember playing games and running around the house. Not much really and I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.”

“It sounds like you had a good experience there, which is good.” The doorbell rang and after placing a kiss on the top of your head, he went to collect the food. He unpacked it in the kitchen and brought it all out to lay on the coffee table.

You leaned over and grabbed a prawn cracker to munch on, warming up your stomach for the feast while you piled up your plate with the goods. “Tom, do you think maybe we could-”

“Have a drink? Yeah, I’ve got a bottle of wine in the fridge.”

“Well, I was going to ask if we could talk, but I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Alright, I guess we can talk, too,” he laughed and grabbed the bottle of wine, pouring you a glass before giving himself one. He sat back down and dug into his noodles.

“Okay, first thing’s first,” you started, pushing the beef around your plate. “Did I pass the dog test?”

“Pass it? I think she loves you more than she loves me, [Y/N].” At your smile, he placed his hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb against you. It was comforting. “I really like you. I just wanted to make sure I’m not making a mistake… And I don’t think I am.”

“I might be a bit biased, but I don’t think you are either,” you grinned and leaned a little closer. His aftershave was delicious. His coffee coloured eyes shifted and stared at your lips and he smirked faintly before meeting you halfway. He kissed you gently, carefully, but it wasn’t what you wanted. Grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt, you pulled him closer. The kiss was hungry and needy and you tried to pour everything into it.

“No, definitely not,” came his whispered reply.

Boy, were you in trouble.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains smut.

Happiness was simply an understatement to describe how being with Tom made you feel; elated, euphoric, intoxicated was more like it. Tom brought out a warmth in you that you weren’t even aware you had. Every time he smiled, laughed or simply looked your way your heart melted. You couldn’t dream of spending your time with anyone else. Ever since that (incredibly) short conversation about what your relationship actually was, you had barely left his place. It quickly became your safe place; the one place you felt truly comfortable.

Tom had a fairly busy few weeks filled with interviews, photoshoots and meetings, though luckily he stayed based in London and gave you one of his spare keys for the times he was out all day. His reasoning was for you to keep Tessa company since Harrison was away for a few weeks on holiday with his family, but he struggled to hide the way his entire face lit up every time he saw you curled up on the couch whenever he got home after a long day. He would then usually shower to get off the remnants of makeup he had on his face and squeeze on the couch with you for a cuddle. It was easy and comfortable and felt so right. How could a relationship be so effortless?

“You know what we’ve still not actually done yet?” Tom asked one particular cosy night. He pulled his attention away from the TV and gave you an almost shy smile as he shuffled to sit up a little, disrupting your sleepy state; until that moment, you’d been set on the idea of falling asleep against his chest, but clearly Tom had other ideas. “We haven’t gone on a real date. One where we’re not off our faces on shots or having to rush because one of us has to get back to work. I want to take you out on a proper date where we can dress up and go out for a nice meal and not have to think about anything else.”

It was true. There had been the breakfast date and road trip when you were both back in the States, but other than that there hadn’t been another occasion. You’d both been pretty busy, more Tom than you. Tom was still promoting the film and when he got any down time during the day, you were usually busy with work and deadlines. Your nights tended to end like tonight; wrapped up in a blanket with Tom on the couch and Tessa at your feet, both too tired from the day to actually do anything other than watch Netflix. It was nice to wind down together and simply enjoy each other's company. The kissing was just an added bonus. But Tom was still right: you had yet to go on a real date.

“Okay, well we’re both free tomorrow night,” you replied and reached up to push your favourite curl from his forehead. “Since it was your idea, it’s up to you to find the restaurant. No pressure or anything. Just don’t try too hard or make it obvious that you’re trying to woo me, don’t want to give the game away.”

“Woo you?” he repeated with a snort. He shook his head and caught your hand in his, then pressed his lips to your palm. Your skin tingled at the touch. “I didn’t know my girlfriend was an old woman at heart.”

“Well surprises come in all shapes and sizes,” you said with a grin and squealed with he reached around to tickle your side gently, though he quickly released you to rest his hand on your hip as he relaxed again.

“I think I’ve got somewhere in mind, but I might have to pull the celebrity card to get a reservation for tomorrow,” he said, absently stroking the bit of skin just above your jeans. “I’ll get it sorted. We’ll book it for about eight so I’ve got plenty of time in case my interviews run late.” His hand slid up your side and to your back where he started to play with the ends of your hair, something which had recently become his favourite pastime.

“Well you sort all that out and I’ll just worry about making myself look pretty.”

If you weren’t already looking at Tom, you still would have known he rolled his eyes. “Darling, you could wear a potato sack and you’d still be the most gorgeous woman in the room.”

The tenderness of his voice and the kiss he pressed to your forehead made you melt. You looked up at him with a soft smile, your cheeks a flushed, flaming red. His compliments were something you never tired of hearing. With a small shuffle, you leaned in to kiss him tenderly. When you began to pull away, Tom tightened his grip around your body and held you flush against his own. His tongue slipped past your lips and you welcomed him with a barely audible gasp. He smirked into the kiss and ran his hands down along your back before taking a firm hold of your bum, groaning deeply at the feel of the flesh in his hands. A low growl was heard, catching you off guard. He’d never made that noise before and you weren’t sure how it made you feel. Tom seemed to be thinking along the same lines, assuming the noise came from you. A small pout appeared on your lips when he pulled away slightly. Another growl came. Tom huffed and rolled his eyes, then looked over to the left.

Tessa looked over at you both from the end of the couch, watching intently. She growled yet again.

“Don’t like being a third wheel, huh, Tess?” Tom sighed. He gave you a light peck on the lips before sitting up properly on the couch to detangle himself from your limbs. When he noticed your pout had gotten bigger, he laughed and kissed your cheek, then whispered into your ear, “Tomorrow. I promise.” His voice was low and full of desire. “We’ll have no interruptions and, most importantly, no one to cock block.”

True to his word, Tom booked one of the more fancier restaurants in London. You knew it was fancy because you had to Google near enough everything on the online menu just to actually know what it was. While Tom spent the day traveling all over the city for different work commitments, you spent the morning in town searching for the perfect outfit. None of the clothes you already had were suitable and frankly you just fancied treating yourself. For hours you searched through what felt like hundreds of shops. Your feet hurt, you had a headache, and the majority of people bustling around the city were winding you up. Then in what you promised yourself was the last shop, you found  _ the _ dress. The silky, dark green material fit like a glove, hugging all your curves in a way you knew would drive Tom crazy. It fell just over your knees, making your legs look longer.

You took extra time getting ready that night. You curled your hair loosely and applied your makeup carefully, deciding on a smokey eye and a nude lipstick to make your lips look more plump. For some reason you were nervous, at least more so than you should have been considering your relationship was already set. What was there to be worried about?

As it began to near half past seven, you slipped on the dress and found a pair of nude heels to match. You hadn’t spoken to Tom that much throughout the day because you knew how busy he was, but he’d told you he would pick you up at half past. As though he’d waited for the clock to turn, at half seven on the dot you got a text to say he was outside. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You gave yourself a quick once over in the mirror and ruffled your hair to make it a little messy, then hurried out of the flat, ignoring Olivia’s shout to use protection.

“You, my darling, are fucking beautiful,” Tom grinned when you slid into the front of his car next to him. He looked you up and down and then leaned over for a kiss. “You look stunning.”

“I don’t look even half as good as you,” you replied, wiping your lipstick away from his top lip where it had smudged. The tight shirt showed off his muscles on his chest and arms. Oh those  _ arms _ .

“You’re beautiful,” Tom told you and stopped you making another comment by giving you another kiss.

On the drive over to the restaurant, he caught you up on his day. You loved hearing stories about what it was like behind the scenes. Although you’d met many people through work in Tom’s position, you’d never really understood what it was like to be under the spotlight. He told you all about who he’d been interviewed by that day and how much easier and relaxed he felt when he was joined by other cast members rather than have to go through the questions alone; it was much easier to wiggle out of uncomfortable questions when he had backup. 

“We’re all going out for dinner one night when we’re done with all the press stuff,” Tom told you as he pulled up outside the restaurant where a valet stood waiting to park the car. “I keep meaning to ask if you’ll come, but my memory turns into a sieve when I’ve got so much on.” He got out of the car, handed the valet his keys, then came around your side to help you out with a big, cheeky grin on his face. That kind of thing wasn’t something you expected or necessarily wanted, but Tom just couldn’t help himself. 

“I’d love to come with you. You never know, maybe I’ll get lucky with Jake,” you replied with a hopeful and exaggerated sigh.

“Not if I beat you to it,” he snorted and took a hold of your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, and led you into the restaurant.

The lights were turned down low and a small band played jazz music over in the far corner of the large room, casting an incredibly romantic aura around you. Per Tom’s request, you were taken to one of the tables towards the back for a little bit more privacy, though with a perfect view of the band. Red wine was ordered (a small glass for Tom as he was driving) and you couldn’t help but giggle when you tapped your glasses together to celebrate finally making it out on your first proper date.

“I told Mum and Dad about us the other day,” you said when the starters arrived. You ripped apart a small piece of bread to start dipping into your soup. “I’ve never seen Mum so excited over anything before in my whole life.”

“And what was your dad’s reaction?” Tom questioned. It was clear he was nervous about the man’s feelings towards him, which was understandable because the two had still yet to meet. 

You gave a shrug of a shoulder and quickly wiped the corner of your mouth where the soup had spilled. “Typical dad reaction, I suppose. He got protective, though I could tell he was only pretending, and just started asking questions about you. Nothing too dramatic. I mean, Dad’s just one of those parents who’s happy if I’m happy. I just know how embarrassing he’ll be, though, when he finally meets you. More embarrassing than Mum, that’s for sure.”

“Your mum wasn’t that bad.”

“Yeah, because you met her for about five minutes before I saved you.”

“Wait until you meet mine,” Tom chuckled and took a sip of his wine. “It’s like she always carries baby pictures of us around all the time just waiting for the perfect moment to whip them out. Not even kidding, the first time I introduced her to Downey, it wasn’t even five minutes before she pulled a picture of me in my old Spidey baby suit!”

You laughed softly and shook your head, holding your hand to your chest. “You had a baby Spider-Man costume? Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever imagined anything cuter!”

Tom’s cheeks reddened. He cast a shy smile over at you and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up slightly. “Yeah, well I guess I was born for the part,” he smirked with a shrug of a shoulder.

“I couldn’t imagine anyone doing a better job at it,” you told him sincerely and the soft look that appeared on his face made it clear how much those words meant to him. There were many things that Tom was that you simply adored and being passionate about his job was right up there towards the top of the list. Being Spider-Man meant so much to him and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin it, both for himself and for fans of the whole Marvel franchise.

Throughout the meal, the two of you laughed like you were the only ones in the room. All hell could have broken loose in the restaurant but neither of you would have noticed because you were just enjoying each other’s company. You realised one of your favourite things to do was make him laugh; it was a gorgeous sound that you’d never get sick of. When the bill was paid, Tom decided to leave his car for now and you walked hand in hand to a cocktail bar not too far away. 

“So go on,” you said when you settled down in a little booth in the bar with a bright orange cocktail in your hand. You leaned into Tom’s side comfortably and he placed a hand on your knee, stroking the smooth skin with his thumb. “Tell me one thing no one else knows. Not even your brothers or even Harrison,” you continued and gave a cheeky grin.

Tom laughed and shook his head, then took a gulp of his water as though preparing himself. But he shrugged his shoulders. “There’s not much they don’t know, especially Haz. Fucking hell, he probably knows more about what I’ve been up to than I know myself.” He leaned back in the seat as he thought for a moment. “Okay, I’ve got something, but you have to promise you can’t breathe a word to anyone,” he said and leaned back towards you again, face just inches from yours.

“Okay, I promise,” you smiled and tilted your head a little higher to steal a kiss. As well as his laugh, his kisses were at the top of your list of favourite things about him.

“I mean it, babe,” he said, voice low. It sent shivers along your spine and goosebumps appeared on your arms and legs. A glint appeared in Tom’s eye and he squeezed your knee. Then, wanting to test your reaction, slid his hand slowly along the outside of your thigh, pushing your dress up along with it. “You’ve to promise me you won’t tell anyone,” he repeated in a whisper, pressing his forehead to yours.

All you could do was give a nod. You were barely listening to him now, your focus solely on his hand on your leg and the burning feeling his fingers left on your skin. Your eyes fluttered close as he leaned closer, brushing his nose against yours. His lips were so close, his breath tickling you.

“The day we met,” he started and brushed a piece of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear, “I actually had a date that night.”

“Oh, well how lovely. That’s not exactly what I had in mind,” you replied with a roll of your eyes. “I wanted something juicy or a story about a wank gone wrong or something.”

Tom chuckled softly and shook his head. “I didn’t tell anyone because the guys make a big deal out of things like that sometimes. But yeah, I don’t even think it was half an hour after meeting you that I cancelled it. I didn’t…” He paused, gave a small smile and then kissed you chastely. “I didn’t want to let you slip away.”

You pretended to throw up into your drink and laughed when he pushed his hand further under your dress to grab a hold of your bum. “You, Mr Holland, are a very cheeky boy,” you giggled, placing your own hand on his chest to fiddle with the small buttons on his shirt. “But just so you know, I’m fucking glad you cancelled.”

“You know what? So am I.”

You weren’t sure how fast it happened or which one of you made the first move, but in what felt like no time at all, you’d downed the rest of your drink, driven back to Tom’s and found yourself pressed against the front door of his house after he’d slammed it shut behind you. The door was cold against your back but your skin burned at Tom’s touch. His kiss was hungry and hurried, as though it would be his last time tasting you. His hands grabbed at your waist, your hips, anywhere he could, and hurriedly pushed your dress up, not giving a care in the world if it ripped.

“Careful,” you managed to whisper as his lips moved to your neck. His hands were everywhere, touching as much of your skin as he could, yet it wasn’t enough. You needed more. Taking charge, you firmly took a hold of his hands and, seeing his suddenly confused expression plastered across his face, moved away to lead him to the bedroom, letting your dress fall back down your legs on the way to hide the bum he adored so much.

“I swear, if Tessa ruins this for us again, I’ll throw away her box of treats,” Tom muttered grumpily, eyes fixated on how the dress clung perfectly, almost tauntingly, to your backside.

“Oh we both know you’d never be so cruel,” you smirked, glancing back at him over your shoulder. You caught him admiring your bum and raised a brow. “Spot something you like?”

“Oh yeah, very much!” Tom looked up and gave a great, big, childish grin.

It was as though stepping through the doorway into Tom’s bedroom suddenly intensified the nervousness you’d been feeling before the date. You’d both been happy in your relationship and you knew eventually it would lead to this, but now you stood in his room in your crinkled dress that Tom had struggled not to rip off you, it felt incredibly real. This was really happening. You turned and saw Tom watching you from the doorway. He gave a smile.

“We don’t have to do this,” he said, sensing your hesitation. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“Oh believe me, I want to,” you replied and your face flushed at how excited he looked. “I just… I don’t know, I don’t want to be a disappointment.”

With a shake of his head, Tom moved closer and cupped your face in his gentle hands. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Darling, there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

You were being irrational, you knew it. He was right, there was nothing to worry about because you were with him. You weren’t exactly new to this but it had been a while. The softness of his voice made you look up and you slid your arms up his chest to wrap around his neck as you pulled him closer. The kiss was soft and slow but the lust very quickly took over. All nervousness was forgotten. His hands held your waist and he pushed you back towards the bed, resting himself on top of you when you fell down onto the mattress. His fingers skimmed the skin on your thigh, making you shiver, and he pushed your dress further up, bunching it in his fist on your hip, struggling to control himself and not destroy it. You pressed against his shoulders, moving so you were on top, straddling his hips as you deepened the kiss, tongues tracing over each other’s lips.

When your breath started coming out faster and the heat began to build up almost uncomfortable in your bodies, you sat up properly and bunched your dress up to pull it off. Tom’s face was a glorious sight. He swallowed thickly as his hungry eyes took every inch of you in, eventually settling on your bare breasts.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Tom moaned and roughly pulled you back down, hands running over your back as he kissed your neck, leaving his mark.

You tugged at his shirt and he sat up enough to swiftly tug it off, tossing it to the other side of the room. His lips found yours again and he pressed you flush against his chest, skin touching skin. You kissed along his shoulder, nibbling and licking and sucking gently. His soft moan vibrated through his chest and you smirked, though it quickly turned into a moan of your own when his hands moved to cup your breasts and he took a nipple in his mouth.

He pushed you back onto the bed and kissed along your breasts and down your body until he reached the lacy edge of the thong you wore specially for tonight. A heavy sigh came from him and he looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust.

“Well get on with it,” you teased. You chewed your lower lip at the sight of him, his hair ruffled and cheeks slightly flushed. His made your knees weak.

Tom pushed aside the elastic, kissing the flesh he’d revealed, and a shiver shook your body. You moaned impatiently, and his restraint slipped. He pulled your thong down a little rougher than intended and groaned deeply, seeing the shining wetness of your core. He kissed your inner thigh and slid his fingers along between your lips, feeling the dampness. Hearing your whimper, he slowly slipped two fingers into you.

“Christ, you’re soaking,” Tom whispered, his breath tickling your skin.

His fingers were gentle and slow. He moved back up your body to kiss you. You moaned softly against his lips as he moved his fingers faster, smoothing his thumb over your clit. You rocked your hips against him and pulled him closer, grabbing at his hair and pulling on the curly strands. He pressed harder against your clit and tugged on your lower lip with his teeth. You felt yourself getting closer as his fingers curled inside your walls, finding the spot that made stars appear before your eyes.

Tom smirked against your lips.

Your muscles tightened around his fingers.

And you came undone.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, watching you writhe against him. He swallowed thickly. Slowing his movements as you came down from your high, he pressed gentle kisses along your jaw, your cheek, your eyelids, wanting to get every bit of you. He then tilted your head up to capture your lips in a kiss.

“Why do you still have clothes on?” you managed to ask and reached down to fiddle with the button of his trousers.

His breath hitched as you grazed over his hardened cock. He shook his head and reluctantly moved away. Seeing the pout on your swollen lips, he laughed and just stood up straight to remove his trousers and boxers.

Your mouth watered at the sight. This time it was your turn to be left breathless.

“You all right, darling?” he asked, though the smirk that graced his lips made it more than obvious he knew that you were impressed.

“Never better,” you whispered and sat up properly to move to the edge of the bed, settling in front of him. Your eyes never left his as you pressed the softest of kisses to his tip.

“Another time,” Tom said in a pained voice and brushed your hair from your eyes. He moved over to the bedside table and pulled a box of condoms from the drawer, quickly opening one to slide on to his throbbing cock. “Hey, my eyes are up here,” he said with a cocky grin and pointed to his face when he noticed you couldn’t look away.

“Oh, I’m well aware,” you replied and grabbed a hold of his hand to pull him onto the bed, ignoring his yelp as you moved to straddle him. The sight of him lying between your thighs was heavenly. Would it be wrong to just stay in this spot all night, pressing your heat against him so you could watch him squirm beneath you? A deep groan came from Tom as you began moving your hips painstakingly slowly, spreading your wetness along his cock.

His fingers dug into your thighs and moved up to hold your bum, grabbing it hard enough to leave marks. Just as he was about to beg, you raised yourself up a little and guided his cock to your entrance, eyes closing in pure bliss as you gently lowered yourself, taking his full length.

“Jesus, [Y/N],” came his whimper and his hands tightened on your bum to help lift you slightly. Both your moans filled the room as you fell back down, clenching your walls around him.

You leaned down and brought your lips to his. It was hungry, powerful, intoxicating. The room fell away, leaving the two of you lost in your own bubble of passion. He pulled you closer, your breasts bouncing against his chest as you rocked your hips, but he wanted more. He couldn’t bring you close enough. He wanted every part of you.

Tom tightened his hold on you and rolled over, lips barely breaking contact with your skin. He pushed into you and buried his head in the crook of your neck. His moans were addictive. His hips rocked into yours, each move purposeful.

Your nails raked along the skin of his back, leaving angry red lines. The whispers and murmurs of encouragement and swearing and simply his name in your lips spurred Tom on even more, wanting to give everything he had. With a hand placed around your neck, squeezing ever so slightly, testing the waters, he thrust harder and took a hold of your leg beneath your knee, lifting it. The angle was perfect.

Everything was perfect.

The scent, taste and feel of him was  _ perfect _ .

He began roughly pounding into you, kissing every piece of your skin he could reach: your chin, neck, collar bone, breasts. You felt skin break under your nails and you moved your hands from his back to his hair, pulling hard on the curls.

“F-fuck, don’t s-top, oh  _ God _ , please don’t stop!” Your words came out in a pant, quickly turning to a loud moan when he dropped his hand from your leg and moved it between you, rubbing your clit in a way that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

The bed beneath moved with you both, headboard smashing against the wall with each of Tom’s thrusts.

“You gonna cum for me, darling?” His voice was hoarse and deep.

You bit down hard into the skin between his neck and shoulder as you entered the state of euphoria. Tom followed just moments later with one final thrust, spilling himself with a low groan of your name. His legs weakened and he fell onto you, crushing your body beneath him.

“Okay, I can’t breathe,” you giggled and blew his hair away from your mouth.

With a laugh, he leaned up to give you a kiss, then rolled onto his back next to you to rest, eyes closing. He lay panting softly, body too spent to move much. “That was-”

“Yeah,” you replied with a big grin and glanced at him. His skin glistened in the light of the room and his hair stuck up at all angles. “It was definitely amazing.”

Lids still closed, he pulled the condom off and tied it in a knot, then tossed it onto the floor, deciding it was a problem to clean up later. He reached out to you and pulled you close against his chest. The sound of his heart beat loudly in your ears and you decided right then and there that you never wanted to spend your life with anybody else. This, right here with Tom, was home.


	7. Chapter 7

It didn’t occur to you that you’d both fallen asleep until the light from the morning sun woke you up. With a small groan, you reached down and pulled the duvet up over your head to shield yourself from the unpleasant awakening. As you lay there, Tom’s arm hanging lazily over your waist, you couldn’t ignore the slight aching pain between your legs. Boy, had last night been good but the ache reminded you just how long it had been. The toys in your bedside table had never been used more in the last year, let’s just say that. When there was a slight shuffle and a yawn from behind, you turned over and pushed the duvet down a little; being almost blinded by the sun was worth it to see Tom’s sleepy morning face.

“Remind me to close the curtains next time,” Tom said with a small chuckle, his voice thick and raspy from sleep. He rubbed his eyes and looked over at you with a smile, taking in your messy hair and small marks his lips had left on your neck the night before. “You, my darling, are beautiful.” With a cheeky grin, he reached over and pulled you closer. His lips met yours, instantly waking you up. He pressed himself against you, rubbing his morning erection against your thigh.

“I don’t think I can go another round just yet,” you murmured against his lips, though wanted to do nothing more than pin him down and fuck him into the mattress. “I’m a bit sore.”

After another gentle kiss, he pulled away and slapped your bum lightly. “Alright, how about some breakfast?” he asked as he moved to get out of bed. He shoved on a pair of boxers and tossed you one of his t-shirts. “I’ve no idea what we’ve got left in,” he said, leading you out the bedroom after you put some of his boxers on too. “Harrison usually does the food shop… I should probably check when he’s back from his holiday actually,” he murmured, mostly to himself.

Since you’d been spending more time at Tom’s place, the two of you often ordered food instead of cooking. It was a lot easier and, truth be told, you both got lazy after a long day of work. There were basics you’d pick up from the local shop but as you both looked through the cupboards and fridge, you came to the realisation that there hadn’t been much in for a long time.

“Okay, so we’ve got a few sausages, cereal and… Ah ha, one slice of bacon!” Tom said, pulling it from the fridge with a proud look on his face. Seeing your frown, he burst out laughing and shook his head. “Okay, we’ll just use this up and then go for something proper to eat.  _ And _ we’ll go shopping,” he added, reading your mind.

While Tom got started on the bacon and sausages, you flicked the kettle on and made a cup of tea for each of you. As you sipped the hot drink, you leaned back against the island and watched Tom move around the kitchen, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. The muscles on his back were glorious but the angry red scratches across his shoulders and spine made your cheeks flame. Either they weren’t sore or they didn’t bother him because Tom didn’t seem to think about the large marks as he quietly hummed an old cartoon theme tune to himself.

“There better be enough for me.”

The voice came from behind and you quickly turned to see a tall, sandy haired young man around the same age as Tom stood leaning back against the table with a cocky smirk plastered across his face. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow, looking between the two of you with a glint in his eye, clearly trying his hardest to hold in his laugh. You pulled at the end of the t-shirt you were wearing, trying to cover yourself a little bit more, and did your best to ignore how hot your face suddenly felt. This wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined meeting Tom’s best friend for the first time.

“Fuck sake, Harrison, I thought you weren’t back until the end of the week,” Tom said with an awkard chuckle and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up at the back.

“Nope. Got back last night,” Harrison replied, letting out the laugh he’d been holding. “Didn’t you see my suitcase at the door when you got back?”

There was a pause from Tom and then he mumbled, “Must have missed it. I was… Distracted.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” he snorted and moved over to the fridge. He took out the carton of milk and drank a large gulp. “Next time, try to remember my bedroom’s right next to yours.”

Tom dropped a sausage on the floor with a quiet thud. Tessa scurried over and headed straight for it, not caring that it was steaming with heat. Your face fell and your eyes widened in absolute horror at Harrison’s words.

The moans. The screams. The bloody  _ headboard _ .

Christ.

He’d heard  _ everything _ .

“Yeah, um, we’ll keep that in mind,” you managed to mutter because Tom seemed to have lost his voice, only able to clear his throat. After a pause, you gave Harrison a brief nod and then hurriedly left the room go grab some proper trousers from upstairs.

You took the time to brush the knots from your hair, spray some deodorant on and actually wash the makeup from your face. It was rare you slept with makeup on and the small spots already appearing under your skin along your jawline and chin reminded you exactly why you usually scrubbed your face clean of it. When you felt a little bit better about your appearance, you headed back down to join the boys in the kitchen. Tom’s cheeks were still tinted with pink when he gave you a smile. Seeing Harrison digging into some cereal at the table, you decided to join him with your plate, though noticeably there was one sausage short thanks to Tom’s clumsiness and Tessa’s quick reflexes.

“Don’t worry, I ended up putting my earphones in,” Harrison said through a mouthful of Cheerios, as though that would help with the situation.

With a shake of your head, you gave a soft laugh and shrugged a shoulder. “Well next time you have a girl over, you have permission to get us back,” you chuckled and covered your food sausages and bacon with ketchup.

“Oi, he’s way ahead of me in that game!” Tom argued playfully, taking the seat next to you.

“It’s a game now, is it?” Harrison asked with a raised brow. “I can guarantee I haven’t woken you up by repeatedly bashing my headboard against the wall.”

“Don’t hate the player,” Tom smirked and leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head. 

“Alright, boys, I can practically taste the testosterone in here,” you said and rolled your eyes. “If you want, I can leave you both alone and you can sort through your issues between yourselves.”

Tom gave a light chuckle and placed his arm over the back of your chair, but you soon got up to properly get ready for the day. After shoving your plate in the dishwasher, you went back upstairs and had a long shower to get rid of the post-sex sweat that had dried on your skin. When you felt much fresher and smelled of Tom’s fancy soaps, you changed into some sweats and spotted your phone on the bedside table. The screen flashing with multiple messages caused a small frown between your brows. Who was messaging you so much? You didn’t have that many friends.

**Olivia Mayfield** 10m ago

AVOID TWITTER

**Olivia Mayfield** 13m ago

Hello???

**Casey Piper** 14m ago

Since when you were seeing TOM HOLLAND?

**Amy Leung** 17m ago

You look hot🔥

**Amy Leung** 17m ago

YOU’RE IN THE NEWS!

**Olivia Mayfield** 17m ago

Have you seen the Daily Mail?👀

Reading the texts made your stomach twist. The colour drained from your face. You’d been careful, hadn’t you? Well, you hadn’t gone out of your way to hide from people but there hadn’t been anyone with cameras to hide from.  _ Oh don’t be ridiculous _ , you thought,  _ everyone has a camera in their pocket these days _ . Going against Olivia’s advice, you went straight to Twitter and, ignoring the ridiculously large number of follow requests, you saw that Tom’s name was trending. You took a seat on the edge of the messy bed and clicked on the name to see hundreds of tweets. Some mentioned you, though a lot of them simply retweeted the same article from the  _ Daily Mail _ or  _ The Sun _ . Seeing a blurred photo of the two of you leaving the restaurant hand in hand made you click on one of them despite knowing it was best to steer clear of these types of things.

**Tom Holland Heads out With Mystery Woman at London Hot Spot**

_ Hollywood heart-throb Tom Holland was seen holding hands with a mystery woman on Thursday night while leaving Marylebone’s Chiltern Firehouse. The two were spotted walking outside the restaurant looking loved up after a romantic date in one of London’s celebrity hot spots. _

_ The Spider-Man star, 23, looked delighted as he spent time with his companion, and could be seen wrapping an arm around her shoulders while they chatted and moved onto one of the many cocktail bars in the area. _

_ The woman wore a silk, mid-length green dress, leaving little to the imagination, while Tom kept things cool with a short-sleeved button up shirt and checkered trousers. _

_ A source for the Daily Mail told us the couple could barely keep their hands off each other and headed back to Tom’s home in Kingston upon Thames once the night came to an end. _

_ His outing comes after sources exclusively tell us he is still hung up on ex-girlfriend Zendaya: _

_ ‘They dated for a couple of years and it’s hard to get over someone like that,’ our source says, ‘He’s still pining [for Zendaya] and will do anything he can to get over her. It’s hard for him to see she’s moved on so quickly.’ _

_ The Daily Mail has reached out to Tom’s representatives for comment. _

Throughout the article, there were multiple photos of you and Tom outside the restaurant, just laughing with each other as you walked to your next destination. The photos were blurry, either taken from far away or snapped quickly on someone’s phone, but they were clear enough to make out your face. How had people found out your name? Even the writer of the trashy article hadn’t found that out. Closing the page, you planned on leaving it at that but you couldn’t help scroll through the tweets; words such as ‘ugly’, ‘fat’, ‘fake’ and ‘pig’ were just some of the many that stuck out. Of course, there were nice messages but those weren’t the ones you cared about. How could you listen to those people when there were others telling you things you sometimes thought about yourself? Surely you were supposed to listen to those ones who were speaking the harsh truth?

With an almost inaudible sigh, you took the plunge and chanced a look at Instagram. As expected, you had hundreds of new followers on your public work page as well as countless requests on your private one. You assumed people had found you by searching through the people Tom followed. You ignored the requests and looked at the comments on your most recent public posts. It was all pretty much the same. The nice comments were drowned out by the ones aiming to destroy not only your relationship with Tom but also what confidence you had left in yourself. Did these people really think it was okay to send such disgusting messages?

You weren’t sure how long you sat there scrolling through Instagram and Twitter but you guessed it was quite a while when a hand appeared in front of your face, waving wildly. With a jump, you locked your phone and looked up to see Tom’s confused face.

“You okay, darling?” he asked. “I’ve just said your name about a hundred times.”

“Oh, you did? Oh. Right. Uh, yeah, yeah, fine, just in my own little world,” you replied, voice at a slightly higher pitch than usual. You cleared your throat. “Just replying to some texts, is all.”

“Nothing to do with certain pictures that were taken last night?” he asked after a small hesitation, then gave a smile when the sudden drop of your shoulders gave him the answer he already knew. With a heavy sigh, Tom took a seat next to you on the bed and placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t expect anyone to be there taking pictures.”

“S’not your fault,” you muttered, only half listening to what he was saying. The names people on Twitter called you were too busy making their way to the front of your mind, overpowering Tom’s apology. There was a huge temptation to show him what was being said and let him say something to his fans but how much help would that be?

“Well I still should have known better, [Y/N]. Hey, look at me,” he said softly and took your face in his hands, tilting it towards him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m really sorry about the pictures. I’ve learnt from experience it’s best to just not say anything. They’ll be old news by tomorrow.” He offered you a smile which you returned. “At least no one knows who you are.”

Ah, so he had yet to see people’s comments. He must have just skimmed over the article or been told about it by Harrison or maybe his agent. There was no way you were going to tell him about the things people were saying to you, both on your Instagram comments and private messages. He didn’t need to worry about that. Like he said, it was best to ignore the whole situation.

Easier said than done.

“Yeah, I just wasn’t expecting our relationship to be found out so soon,” you said and leaned your head against his shoulder. His arm wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer to his chest. “Next time we go out we’ll be more careful.”

“But that’s not what I want, darling,” Tom sighed and gave your forehead another kiss. “I don’t want to have to keep a lookout whenever we go out. Look, if you want I can say something or we can sort something out to stop people taking your photo.”

You shook your head quickly, seeing how torn he felt about the situation, worried about how you’d react. “No, no, it’s not that bad. I think it’s just because I’m not used to being in front of the camera, it’s usually me taking the photos and I’m one of the good guys who gets the model’s permission,” you said, forcing a light chuckle. “Seriously, Tom, it’s fine.  _ I’m _ fine. I just wasn’t expecting it, is all.”

Tom looked at you for a moment, wanting to see if there was anything you weren’t telling him, and when he decided you really were okay, he gave your lips a kiss and your hip a squeeze and went on his way back downstairs. The second you heard his feet touch the wooden floor at the bottom of the stairs, your shoulders dropped and you glanced over at your phone. How bad would it be to have another look at what people were saying? Before you could even give yourself the chance to answer that question, you shoved your phone into your bag without answering any of your friends’ text messages and followed Tom.

*****

Just as Tom had assured you, the news quickly became old and was soon overtaken by a huge story of a cheating scandal within the cast of  _ The Only Way Is Essex _ \- something of which you had no interest in and couldn’t see why others were eager to read about it. Despite the news dying down and the comments on your social media eventually settling, you were still nervous about going out in public with Tom. For the first few days, the two of you stayed local on walks with Tessa, but as Tom’s promotion for  _ Far From Home  _ came to an end the following weekend and the celebration meal drew closer, you started getting more nervous. It was something you pushed yourself to attend; what use was hiding away and ruining the relationship? Attracting attention was all part of the package that came with being with Tom.

Due to his schedule for the last day, it was agreed that you’d meet Tom after his final interview and you’d go to the restaurant from there. Although the nerves had fully kicked in, you were incredibly excited to meet his cast mates. From what Tom had told you about them all, they were a great bunch. You’d watched some interviews and recently listened to him and Jake live on Radio 1, which had you completely belly laughing, so meeting them all in person made you just that little bit extra anxious.

“Do you think I’m thinking too much about the whole press situation?”

The question came out as a whisper but it was enough for Olivia to hear. She looked up from the couch to see you stood in the doorway to your bedroom, dressed and ready to go. With a small groan, Olivia pushed herself up from the couch to look at you properly and looked you up and down. “If I wasn’t taken, I’d definitely be trying to get you to bed,” she smirked, making you roll your eyes. “But to answer your question, I dunno. I mean, you haven’t exactly been the most vocal about the whole situation.”

You supposed she was right. Whenever it was brought up, you tended to bring out the inner teenager out in you and just give a grunt in response.

“I just don’t want to get enough attention from the press or his fans -  _ especially _ his fans - for it to affect our relationship,” you replied and brushed a piece of straightened hair behind your ear.

“The only way it’ll do that is if you let it,” Olivia said and you instantly knew she was right.  _ Of course _ she was right. “I’m no relationship expert but if you want to make it work, then you put the effort in to ignore all the crap people are saying.”

Olivia was the only one who you’d shown the private messages people had sent; you’d been too scared of Tom’s reaction to let him see. Even though you knew you were overthinking things, a part of you worried that if Tom read the messages, he’d realise the relationship wasn’t worth the hassle and leave you be. Ridiculous, right?

“Just go out and let your hair down,” she continued with a big grin. “Tom’s lucky to have someone so hot.”

“Oh please, it’s not all about looks, you know,” you told her, trying to sound stern but couldn’t hide the smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

“What can I say? I’m vain,” she laughed and grabbed your keys from under a magazine on the coffee table, tossing them to you as you hurried out to the Uber waiting outside.

As the car drove off, you thought about Olivia’s words. She was right. One hundred percent right. Although it was difficult, you knew you had to just move on and get over your relationship being known. Thinking about it, you knew it was stupid to get so hung up about a few photos and (more than) a handful of death threats sent from Tom’s so called fans. You knew this kind of reaction was common when it came to people in the public eye, you just never expected to be in the receiving end of it.

When you pulled up outside the studio, Tom was already standing there waiting. His face lit up when you got out of the car and he wasted no time giving you a kiss. “You, my perfect girlfriend, are looking gorgeous,” he grinned, still in a high state from his interview. He grabbed your hips and pulled you close. “I’ve missed you.”

“You saw me last night, “ you snorted and moved your hands from his chest to wrap around his neck.

“And?”

“And you can survive a day without me, I’m sure.”

“You know what? I don’t think I can.”

With another kiss, Tom slapped your bum lightly and then took your hand to start leading you down the street.

“Hey, hey, slow down!” she laughed, struggling to keep up with his quick pace. “Some of us are wearing heels, you know.”

“And whose fault is that?” came his laugh of a reply, looking back over his shoulder at you hurrying in your boots. “We’re only going around the corner and then you can have a drink. Anyway, why do women wear those things if they hurt?”

“Because they make us look good,” you shrugged and continued to wince with each step until you got to the restaurant the  _ Far From Home _ team had booked out for the rest of the night, meaning everyone had the privacy to fully relax and enjoy the night.

The first person you spotted was Zendaya. All it took was one look at the tall young woman to instantly make you feel like a troll. She was absolutely beautiful. No wonder Tom used to have a crush on her. Who could blame him? Zendaya noticed the two of you and put down her drink to rush over, immediately pulling you into a friendly hug.

“I’m a hugger,” she laughed and gave a squeeze, then pulled back to give Tom a light punch on the arm. “It’s about time Tom showed you off! You’re all he talks about.”

“Not  _ all _ I talk about,” Tom muttered, cheeks turning a faint pink.

“Alright, the only time he shuts up is when he’s being asked questions with a camera pointed at him,” she clarified with another laugh and he rolled his eyes. “Other than that, you’re definitely a hot topic.”

Before Zendaya could embarrass him anymore, Tom dragged you off to meet the rest of the cast. There were a few teasing comments here and there about how much he talked about you, but after a drink Tom seemed to just embrace them and give up denying it. The food was served and quickly demolished, then everyone seemed to focus on getting drunk. You made the rounds again, the few cocktails you’d had giving you the confidence to talk to pretty much everyone. Tom stayed by your side with his hand either in yours or around your waist or on your bum. He laughed at your jokes and you at his; your happiness radiated off one another. Jake was exactly as you’d imagined, if not more wonderfully weird. The friendship that had grown between him and Tom was brilliant to see and a part of you even grew slightly jealous of their closeness. 

Someone had managed to get a karaoke set up in the corner of the room and you definitely weren’t one to back down from fighting for the title of Queen of Karaoke. Jacob and Zendaya had their go at OutKast’s “Hey Ya!”, which pretty much had you on the floor laughing. When it came to your turn, you took off your boots to show how serious you were taking this, and dragged Tom up too. There were cheers and whistles. Jake picked your song and within seconds you recognised it as “Dancing Queen”. Your head fell back in laughter. Tom handed you a microphone and the two of you belted out the lyrics, not a single one of them in key. You moved across the makeshift stage to show off your moves. Tom even attempted to do the robot at one point, clearly showing off his wide range of dance skills. When the song came to an end, you both joined in with the cheering and Tom pulled you in for a kiss.

“If I was sober,” he said with a little snigger, “I’d kill you for that."

The end of the night arrived far sooner than you would have liked. Tom tried his best to get one more round of drinks, giggling away to the waitress as he was repeatedly denied any more.

“But it’s for Spider-Man,” he hiccuped and struggled to stop swaying on the spot. He frowned a little as he tried to focus on the waitress, his vision slightly blurred from the amount of alcohol he’d had. “And for Myst… Misty…” He looked back over to Jake and waved a hand in his general direction. “That one.”

“I think someone’s had a little bit too much to drink,” you giggled and took a hold of Tom’s hand to pull him back towards the table where near enough everyone seemed to be saying their goodbyes.

Tom looked down at you, eyes sparkling. “Hello, you,” he said with a grin as though it was the first time he’d seen you all night and hadn’t in fact left your side just minutes earlier. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here,” you laughed and reached up to give the tip of his nose a light poke.

“Not close enough,” he grumbled before pulling you right into him, smushing your face against his chest. He left a wet kiss on the top of your head.

“Any closer and I’d suffocate, babe,” you managed to say, voice muffled from his shirt. You gently pushed against him and moved away. The pout on his lips made you smile. “I think it’s time we head home, yeah?”

Farewell hugs and kisses were made on your way out of the restaurant and you quickly hailed a taxi to take you back to your place as it was closer. Tom leaned into your side as the car drove, the streetlights adding a yellow glow to his face. He gave a big yawn and snuggled into you, and by the time the car came to a halt outside your flat, he was fast asleep and snoring into your shoulder.

“Come on, Tom, just walk about five metres and you’ll be inside and can get into a nice cosy-ish bed,” you said and shook the sleeping lump. All you got was a grunt in response. “Alright, you asked for it.” You took a chunk of his curly hair between your fingers and pulled. Tom jumped with a yelp and rubbed the back of his head. Before he had time to ask for an explanation, you forced him out of the car and, after saying a rushed thank you to the driver, dragged the drunken man into the flat. 

The place was empty; Olivia tended to stay over at her girlfriend’s on the weekends. You could tell Tom was in no state to have even just a sip of water so you guided him towards the bedroom and he fell heavily on the bed.

“Throw up in here and you’ll be on the couch,” you warned, though weren’t sure how much attention he actually paid to your threat. 

Tom attempted to kick off his shoes but gave up with a huff and curled up on top of the covers. Could he have looked more cute? You took a quick picture on your phone and then moved to take the shoes off for him, pulling at the laces to loosen them up. A mumble of incoherent words made you look up but Tom still had his eyes closed and his head buried in the pillow. You shook your head a little and chose to ignore it, brushing the words off as drunken nonsense. Then he spoke again. The words were quiet, only just audible, but you definitely heard them. Goosebumps spread across your arms and a faint smile appeared on your lips.

“Say that again,” you whispered and tossed his shoes to the corner of the room.

Tom rolled over onto his back and stretched out across the bed, taking up all the room. “I love you,” he mumbled and gave a soft snore.

You’d definitely never let him forget this.


	8. Chapter 8

Tom surfaced the next day around lunch time. He shuffled out of your bedroom looking more than a little sorry for himself; his hair stuck up at all angles, his face had a sheen of sweat and he held the duvet around him like it was the only thing helping him hold himself together. Without that duvet, he would simply crumble into the hungover mess he was. When you heard a small groan from behind, you turned from the microwave in the small kitchenette and burst out into a fit of laughter.

“Wow, I’m glad you didn’t look like this when we first met,” you giggled and immediately switched the kettle on. He needed a coffee. Immediately. With a nod towards the couch you told him to lie down and grabbed a couple of paracetamol from the drawer by the sink. “Out of ten, how bad you feeling?”

“That’s too small a scale,” Tom grumbled into the cushions after dropping down onto the couch. He lifted his head just enough for you to feed him the pills and then he curled back up with the duvet over his entire body to block out any light. “I don’t even remember leaving,” he said after a pause.

Ah. So he didn’t remember what he’d said. Typical.

Giving a shrug of your shoulder, you moved over to make yourself busy with making Tom a coffee. “It actually wasn’t that late a night. Well, not as late as I thought it would be. I think we got back around… Half two, maybe? Something like that. I actually wish we’d stayed longer to have another go on the karaoke,” she smirked and saw Tom’s body suddenly stiffen.

“How much of an embarrassment was I?” he asked slowly, expecting the worst.

After adding a splash of milk and a little sugar, you placed the steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of Tom. The smell forced him to sit up and he reached over, taking the drink in his hands. You gave a smile and sat on the smaller couch by the window as you said, “You actually weren’t that bad. Said a few things I know you didn’t mean, though.” With slightly squinted eyes, you watched his reaction to see if there was any recognition in what you were talking about. Had he really forgotten such an important thing? 

“You just said I wasn’t that bad!” Tom argued in his croaky morning voice the coffee had yet to help. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I was an arse, wasn’t I?”

“No, no, you were fine. Honestly, Tom, you were fine. Anyway, it doesn’t matter what you said since you don’t remember.” The harshness in your tone wasn’t intended and it shocked not only Tom but you too. You gave a heavy sigh. “Sorry, I’m just a bit tired.”

Although you found the humour in Tom not remembering the night before and the drunken, silly fool he’d been, you had to admit that him not recalling the words he’d said grated on you. It was such an important moment in your relationship and had he stayed awake long enough after speaking, he’d have heard you return the feelings. How could you not love him? You felt it every time he woke up and smiled when he saw you lying next to him, every time he gave Tessa special smooches, every time he laughed at one of your jokes that was definitely not that funny. The way his eyes crinkled at the sides when he grinned away like an idiot made the butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy. You would tell him, of course you would, but only when he was ready to hear it. That wouldn’t stop you teasing him, though. That was a good way to get rid of the annoyance, right?

“Just know that I really  _ loved _ what you said,” you said and stretched out across the couch, ignoring his look of pure confusion as he racked his brain for anything memorable he could have said.

Tom shook his head a little and took another sip of his coffee. “I’ve no idea. Can’t you just tell me?” He stuck out his bottom lip like a child begging for one more cookie before dinner.

“Nope, figure it out for yourself, lover boy.”

The sound of your laptop dinging with a notification made you look over to where it was sat open on the kitchen table. You’d been waiting on an email so you hurried over and read the message, barely making it halfway through before a squeal of delight escaped from behind your lips.

“Are you purposely trying to make my head explode?”

You laughed at Tom’s miserable face and gave his hair a ruffle on your run back to your bedroom. “I have to pack!” The clothes were thrown from your wardrobe, landing here, there and everywhere. The small suitcase of summer clothes sat at the back, untouched since you returned from the States all those months ago. Even though it was summer, England had yet to actually realise that; there had only been a small handful of days where it was warm enough not to wear a jumper.

“Care to share what you’re packing for?” came Tom’s voice from the doorway as he pulled a tank top off his head, having been tossed in his direction. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorframe. “Are you leaving me for someone much more handsome?”

“Oh don’t be silly,” you said flippantly and tugged the suitcase out onto the carpet. “If I was, I’d do it while you weren’t here. It’d be a bit obvious, don’t you think?” You glanced his way and gave a cheeky grin, then unzipped the suitcase to go through what would be suitable.

“Well where are you going then?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed beside where you sat on the floor. His eyes widened slightly when he took notice of the contents you were rifling through and he reached down to pull up an incredibly skimpy red swimsuit. “Also, more importantly, why have I never seen this before?” He twirled it around his finger, the little piece of material barely skimming your face.

Before it had the chance to scratch an eye out, you grabbed it from his grip and threw it to the side. “Because it’s not suitable for children. And sorry, I sort of didn’t explain myself,” you laughed and leaned against his leg. As though on instinct, his hand found your hair and began to twirl a strand. “Guess who wants me to shoot their cover?” The excitement was evident in the way your whole body practically shook, almost bursting to scream. “Vogue! Vogue want me!  _ Me _ !” 

Tom’s arms had wrapped you into a squeeze before you’d even finished the sentence. He kissed your neck and jaw and side of your head, wherever he could reach from where he was sat. “That’s amazing, bub,” he said softly, holding you tightly enough to push all the air from your lungs, but you didn’t care. He managed to catch your lips in a kiss when you turned towards him. “Really, darling, I’m so proud of you.”

The skin on your cheeks warmed and you gave a shy smile. “Well I wasn’t their first choice,” you said quickly, for some reason not wanting him to think you were that successful. “They had someone else who had to pull out so I was their second choice. Or maybe their third or fourth or whatever since it’s such short notice and not everyone would be able to do that…”

“Hey, don’t put yourself down like that,” he said sternly, brows furrowed slightly. He held your chin between his fingers and tilted your head up so he could give you another kiss. “First choice or not, they still want you. And I don’t see why they wouldn’t. They’d be stupid not to have you.”

Being your own worst critic, it was nice to hear those words.

“Anyway, where are you going?” he continued, glimpsing the amount of bikinis you’d piled up.

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Uh, Greece,” you said and chewed the skin on your lower lip. It was usually Tom’s schedule that changed at a moment’s notice and now he had the time off work, it was yours that was doing a complete one-eighty. “Milos, to be precise. One of the islands.” A thought then popped into your head and you sat up a little straighter as you turned fully to him with a big grin. “Do you want to come? We can make a whole long weekend out of it! I’ll just change my flight coming back home and pay the difference. It’ll be fun!”

Tom couldn’t help but smile at how giddy you were. He took a hold of your shoulders to stop you from wiggling around so much, jittery from the buzz the email had given you. “You know what? That sounds perfect,” he smiled and kissed the tip of your nose. “When do we leave?” He pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and opened one of his apps to look at getting a plane ticket for himself.

“Yeah. Um, that’s the short notice part,” you said with a slightly nervous laugh and moved your attention back to what you were packing. “The flight leaves in six hours.”

Without missing a beat, Tom gave a nod, kissed the top of your head and then hurried out of the flat with the promise to pick you up in a couple of hours. While he was gone, you went through the holiday clothes you had from the year before and packed them neatly back in the suitcase, leaving the unwanted clothes in a pile in the corner of your room to be dealt with at a later date. There was no time for that now. After a quick shower to prepare yourself for the ten hour flight, you shoved on your usual travel outfit of leggings and a comfortable sweatshirt, and double checked you had all your equipment for the photoshoot packed securely in a separate case. There’d be no point in going at all if you forgot any of it.

As expected, Tom arrived in a taxi outside your flat the second you managed to track down your passport. You hauled your cases into the boot of the car, then climbed in next to Tom. He’d freshened up with a shower, too; the smell of his showergel made you want to lick every inch of his sweet skin. But that could wait until you arrived in Greece. Or at least were in the air.

“You’re looking a lot better than before,” you said after checking in at the airport and making your way through security. So far Tom hadn’t been recognised and as long as he kept his hat on, you prayed it stayed that way.

“Well I’ve probably overdosed on ibuprofen,” he said, rubbing his tired eyes. He followed close behind you as you strolled through the perfume stands, stopping to spray one every so often. “Can you even overdose on that or do they just say it to scare people into only taking one or two?”

You shrugged a shoulder and spritzed the newest Chanel onto your neck, the floral scent almost convincing you to buy it right then and there. “I dunno. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see if you lose consciousness. At least I’ll be somewhere nice and sunny while I mourn.”

“That’s all that matters,” he laughed and wrapped an arm across your shoulders as you continued browsing what the little department had to offer.

After a few makeup purchases were made (“Do you really need another nude lipstick? It’s the exact same as the one you always wear!” “It’s a completely different shade, Tom.”), the two of you just relaxed in a private lounge until the flight was ready to board. There were a few people who turned their heads when they recognised Tom but fortunately the two of you were left alone. It didn’t take long to get settled on the flight. You swapped your trainers for the slippers you’d shoved in your bag and relaxed in the seat next to Tom, who had already got comfortable with his neck pillow.

It only took a few episodes of New Girl for Tom to get bored of being on the plane. He tried to occupy himself with the games on his phone, eating food he wasn’t particularly hungry for and walked up and down the aisle a number of times to pass a whole five minutes. It even got to the point where he sat scrolling through the photos on his phone because he had nothing else to do. When he got to the very first pictures on his camera roll, he locked his phone and leaned over to your side. With a cheeky grin, he pushed your headphone to the side of your ear, bringing your attention away from  _ Mamma Mia _ .

“You ever had sex on a plane?”

For a moment, you weren’t sure you’d actually heard him right. Was he serious? For one, you were right in the middle of arguably one of the best numbers in the film so it would simply be cruel to drag you away from watching Donna and the Dynamos perform “Souper Trouper”. And two… Well, there wasn’t another reason. But you still shook your head and said, “I’m not having sex on a plane, Tom. What if someone hears?”

“Then we can be quiet,” he said, though you knew full well he meant you would be quiet as more often than not, you made enough noise for the both of you.

“I can also be quiet while I watch this,” you replied, nodding your head at the screen attached to the back of the seat in front of you, the scene paused.

Tom leaned closer and pressed his lips to the spot just below your ear that made your legs instantly weak. “Are you sure?” he whispered and kissed your skin again.

Clearing your throat quietly, you took your headphones off and placed them inside your bag on the floor. Then, without so much as a smile to let him know he had won so easily, you stood and made your way through the aisle to the small toilet room at the back of the plane. A knock came just minutes later and you slid the door open to let Tom inside.

“Alright, if we get caught then I’m going to kill you,” you chuckled.

Tom’s only response was to lift you up onto the tiny counter and pull you close into a hungry kiss.

The two of you tried. You really did. It started off well with Tom’s hands working wonders between your legs, but at one point the tap turned on and soaked your bum, then a bit of turbulence shook the plane and caused his chin to whack your eye. You’d have been happy to ignore the little incidents had Tom’s foot not slipped into the toilet. It was a complete disaster that you couldn’t stop giggling at. 

“I don’t think this is working,” you laughed as Tom shook his foot to try and get rid of as much water as he could, his nose scrunched up in disgust.

“Oh, you think?” he snorted and zipped up his fly before taking his trainer off so he could use the air dryer on it. “Maybe we can make up for it on the flight home.”

Not wanting to give people the wrong (or completely right) idea, you pulled your leggings back up, hopped off the counter and gave Tom’s cheek a kiss on your way out, leaving him to sort himself out. The silver lining was that you could now watch  _ Mamma Mia _ in peace. 

Tom’s trainer managed to dry out by the time the plane landed. The heat of the early morning sun instantly hit as you headed down the steep steps and you were tempted to just strip into the nude to help with the warmth. Without much trouble, Tom hailed a taxi outside the airport and you headed to the hotel.

“Well who knew when we woke up this morning, or yesterday morning, or whenever the fuck it was,” Tom laughed when the taxi pulled up outside the hotel, “that we’d be in Greece within a day.”

“Well you deserve this time to relax,” you said, unable to take your eyes away from the hotel.

It was simply beautiful. The white stone building looked as though it was cleaned multiple times a day with how bright it was against the sun’s beams. Porcelain tiles in colours of blues and whites paved the way to the entrance, where you were greeted with an enthusiastic receptionist. She’d definitely had their coffee this morning. After checking in, you headed to the room you had booked. The breeze from the open windows was a welcome feeling as you opened the door and Tom took the bags to put in the bedroom while you headed straight for the balcony that looked out onto the beach. For a moment, you closed your eyes and listened to the waves.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” Tom’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind and he left a kiss on your shoulder. “What time do you have to start work?”

“I don’t think I’ve got long, maybe an hour or so,” you said, though made no move to check all your equipment was safe and able to be used for the shoot. “What’ll you do while I’m out?”

“Hm, I’ve got an idea,” he said and gave your shoulder another kiss.

“Should I be worried?”

He chuckled softly and shook his head. “No, be excited. I hope you like it.”

“Okay, now I’m definitely worried,” you laughed and turned in his arms to catch the cheeky smirk on his lips. “Yep, definitely worried.”

“Don’t be, you’ll like it, I promise. Anyway, go get yourself sorted for the big shoot,” he smiled and gave your bum a light slap on your way back into the room.

It turned out that you didn’t have as much time as you’d thought so after rushing about to have a quick shower to wash the airplane from your skin, you hurried out to grab a taxi to take you to the other side of the island, mind still on what Tom had planned for your return.

*****

With the help of a few members of staff at the hotel, Tom’s plan slowly started coming together. You were gone pretty much the entire day so he knew the risk of you accidentally stumbling upon what he was doing was low. He found the perfect spot on the beach beneath a couple of trees that he’d wrapped in fairy lights, and set a small table and a couple of chairs beneath them in the shade. The hotel had a spare sheet to cover the tabletop and he placed a candle right in the centre, waiting until you arrived to light it. Throughout the day he sent you texts to see how close to finishing you were but, understandably, you were only able to reply a couple of times because of how busy you were. It was only when the sun started to lower that you texted him, letting him know you were on your way back. Tom sprung into action. He hurried up the small hill to tell the chef to get started on the meal he’d organised and then headed to your room where he wrote a note and left it on the bed for you to find. After changing into the only shirt he’d brought, Tom gave himself a onceover in the mirror and went back down to the beach.

You only just missed Tom when your taxi pulled up outside the hotel. It hadn’t been the best day; the model had been an absolute diva, the rocks had been more slippery than they’d seemed (almost resulting in you having a broken leg), and there had been no food on site, meaning you’d gone pretty much all day with only having water to keep you going. All you wanted to do was get in bed and cuddle Tom. But you came to realise Tom had other idas when you found the note on the bed in your room.

_ Meet me out on the beach. Follow the petals. - Tom X _

“Follow the petals?” you murmured with a small frown and looked around in confusion. Your face softened when you spotted the beginning of a trail out on the balcony, leading you down the steps. Following the red and pink petals on careful footsteps, not wanting to ruin them, you found yourself on the beach. The sand was clear so you took off your trainers and walked the rest of the way barefoot. Then you spotted Tom. He sat beneath one of the trees, the glow from the fairy lights giving his skin a golden hue. His leg was bouncing. Was he nervous?

Tom turned from looking out at the sea and his whole face visibly lit up at the sight of you. “Is this cheesy?” he asked with a quiet chuckle and ran a hand through his curls. “I know you don’t like things that are too cheesy.”

For a few moments you didn’t know what to say. He’d spent the day doing all this for you. “I love it, Tom,” you replied in a voice soft enough that you were afraid he hadn’t heard. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you said, a little louder this time as you joined him at the table.

“I know I didn’t,” came his simple reply as he lit the candle that sat between you. As if on cue, a waiter appeared with two dishes and placed them on the table. “I’d planned on taking you out anyway while I’m off work and since you completely changed my plans and dragged me along to Greece,” he laughed, “I thought I’d still go ahead and do it, with a few alterations.”

“Alterations meaning we’re on a beach instead of a restaurant and you having sand in your hair,” you chuckled, digging into the prawn starter.

“Yeah, exactly that,” Tom grinned and leaned away from the food to shake the sand from his hair.

While you demolished the mouthwatering prawns, you caught Tom up on your day, finally having a chance to moan. It wasn’t until the mains arrived that you realised how much you’d actually been talking about yourself and hadn’t taken the chance to ask Tom anything about his day.

“What? I mean, it’s pretty obvious what I’ve been up to all day,” Tom said with a shrug and took a sip of his beer. The sun had moved to its lowest point behind him and you took a moment to just stare at how gorgeous he was. He raised a brow. “What are you looking at? Have I got more sand in my hair?”

“No, no, you’re just pretty,” you grinned, reaching over to take a hold of his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s so sweet of you to do all this. Really, Tom, it’s amazing.”

“Well I like to spoil my girl.” He returned the squeeze of your hand and then shifted in his seat, looking as nervous as he had before. He went to say something but something stopped him and he just smiled instead.

“Are you all right?” you questioned as he shuffled again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he assured and pushed his empty plate to the side so he could lean closer. “Great, actually. Well, more than great, I’m perfect, I’m-”

“Tom, you’re rambling,” you laughed, causing his cheeks to redden.

He shook his head as though to rid himself of whatever he was feeling. “I just… I just want to tell you that I… I, uh, I didn’t actually forget what I’d said the other night.”

It took you a moment or two to understand what he was talking about and when it hit, you brushed a piece of hair away from your eyes that the wind had blown into your face. Now he was making you nervous. Was he going to tell you that it was just a load of drunken nonsense? 

“I hadn’t planned on saying it while drunk,” he continued, pulling you from your worries. “I wanted to tell you I love you while sober.”

A surge of happiness exploded in your chest, sending goosebumps along your arms and legs. A blush rose high on your cheeks and your eyes sparkled as they crinkled at the sides, your grin taking up your entire face. “You’re saying you love me, then?” you asked giddily with a slightly raised brow.

Tom licked his lower lip and gave a small nod. “Of course I do, darling. I love you. I think a part of me has loved you since I first laid my eyes on you.” He sat up straighter now he had a little more confidence. “I mean, if you don’t love me too then I take it back. I take it right back, I’ll give my love to someone else,” he laughed, nudging your foot under the table with his.

You joined in with his laughter and moved around the table so you could take his face in your hands, squashing his cheeks. “I love you too, you big idiot.”

The dessert of strawberries and ice cream was eaten through giggles and kisses with you sat on his lap. You would have given anything to take Tom’s hand and drag him back to your room but the temporary dining area had to be cleaned up. You didn’t really care that much. Now that the words had been said, it felt like there was a new type of connection between the two of you. A stronger spark of electricity. You pulled the lights from the trees while Tom collected the plates and tablecloth, then you carried everything back to the hotel.

When you got back to your room, Tom pushed you against the wall and kissed you hard, hand yanking up the skirt of your dress. His fingers were frantic as they stroked over you and he impatiently pushed aside your knickers to thrust one into you. As you moaned into his mouth, he sped his movements up and rubbed his thumb over your clit. Your toes curled and you pulled his hair roughly. He pulled his hand away and moved it to your waist as you shifted so you could wrap your arms around his neck. This time the kiss was slow, languid, a deep longing between you as though it had been weeks since you’d seen each other. Your fingers massaged the nape of his neck and he pulled you closer to his chest, sinking into his warmth. 

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” Tom said against your lips as you pushed him back in the direction of the bed. “I know you’ve had a long day.”

“And what better way to use the last bit of energy I have?” you smirked and gave a sudden squeal as he lifted your body and threw you onto the mattress.

“Well that’s a very smart idea, darling.”

He looked fierce, like he knew exactly what he wanted: he wanted you. Seeking your lips, he lifted your chin. You sank back into the cushions as he kissed you over and over. With a little push from his fingers, the thin strap of your dress slipped from your shoulder and he pulled the material down to your waist, exposing your breasts. He played with your nipple, teasing it with his tongue before finally clamping down and sucking. The moan that escaped you was almost animalistic. Every flicker, tug and tease was felt in every inch of your body, growing into the warmth between your thighs. His hand palmed your other breast and you bit your lip. Had it always been like this, or was this because of the new feelings?

A part of you felt helpless because you wanted to please him but each tug on your nipple he did with his teeth made your mind go completely blank. You wanted to show him how much he meant to you but any ideas you had of blowing his mind (and other parts of his body) were forgotten as his hand found its way back up your dress and tore your knickers off. His fingers found his favourite spot between your thighs, feeling the wetness.

“Tom,” you breathed, unsure of whether you wanted him to stop so you could ravish him or if you were begging him not to pull away.

“I want to taste you,” he said, looking up at your through hooded lids, his eyes dark with lust.

Without much more than a nod, you pulled your dress the rest of the way down, kicking it to the floor when it settled around your ankle. You were desperate to have it away from you, wanting nothing more than to be completely naked with him and feel all of him. Tom flashed a grin as his eyes roamed over your body, taking in every inch with hungry eyes. He quickly ditched his shorts and shirt, tossing them over by your dress. Wasting no time with hesitations, Tom leaned down and kissed along your breasts and your stomach, pulling your knees apart as he finally kissed your most sensitive part. Your head fell to the side as you gave a soft moan, fingers tugging at his hair. A thin sheet of sweat built up across your skin as he did the most delicious things to you. Tom gave his own groans of pleasure as he tasted your sweet juices. Slowly, a tight need swelled up inside you, getting closer to the edge before breaking on a hot, intense orgasm. As you writhed on the bed, you pulled harder at his hair and bucked your hips against his mouth.

“God, you’re perfect,” Tom whispered as he began moving back up your body, leaving a trail of kisses along the way.

“My go,” you smirked when he started kissing just under your jaw, and reached down to stroke his throbbing cock.

“As much as I’d love that, I don’t think I’d last,” he replied into your skin with a small chuckle. A noise of protest came from him when you pushed him onto his back, releasing his lips from your neck. “Hey, I was enjoying that.”

“Oh, so you don’t want this then?” you asked, sitting up as you straddled him. With a teasing glint in your eye, you painstakingly slowly began moving your hips, pressing your heat against him.

“Darling, I’ve never seen such a beautiful sight,” he said and took a hold of your hips, just watching you for a moment, biting his lip. When he was unable to take the teasing any longer, he leaned over to the side table and pulled out a condom, hurriedly rolling it on. His hands went to your hips again and moved you back over him. You lowered yourself and guided his cock into your walls, gasping softly as he filled you. His grasp moved to your bum, fingers digging into your flesh as he lifted you up and down on top of him. Wanting to feel every part of him, you leaned down and buried your head in his neck, kissing his skin that was salty with sweat. He lifted you faster, pounding harder, moaning your name into your hair.

“Oh, fuck, Tom,” you cried over the slapping sound that filled the room as his thrusts quickened.

He rolled you back over so he was on top and you reached above your head, gripping the headboard. His mouth dropped to your breasts, pulling another desperate cry from your throat.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, thrusting again deeper into you.

A shiver moved through you as his hand slipped between your bodies, finding your clit. He was driving you crazy. He pushed faster, harder, filling you completely. Every time your inner muscles spasmed around his cock, he moaned and sped up, receiving groans of his own name from you, begging him not to stop. With a final stroke of your clit, your body trembled with an explosive orgasm. Tom’s fingers dug into your thigh as he joined you, spilling himself with a grunt.

“God, I love you,” he panted and pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder before rolling over onto his back, slipping out of you.

You released your hand from the tight hold it still had on the headboard. “Ditto,” you managed to whisper, panting almost as hard as he was. There was a huge ache between your thighs and even though you wanted to do pretty much anything else, you knew you had to go to the bathroom to clean yourself. After leaning over to give Tom’s cheek a quick kiss, you pushed yourself up from the bed, only to fall down on the floor before you’d even taken the first step; your legs had become too weak to hold up your weight. On the bed, Tom burst out laughing.

“This has never happened before!” you laughed, not bothering to even try and move.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he giggled and leaned over the side of the bed with tears in his eyes, struggling to stop laughing. The sight of him looking so blissful warmed your heart and you couldn’t help the grin that lit up your face. Was it normal to be this happy? Normal or not, you craved it like a drug and never wanted it to end.

*****

The weather was a blessing during the rest of your stay in Greece. There was only one other day where you had to work and finish the rest of the shoot off, but after that it was just you and Tom. Every free moment you got that wasn’t spent sunbathing on the beach (mainly in that swimsuit Tom had found in your flat. Teasing him had become your new favourite hobby, especially when it led to him carrying you back to the room to have his way with you) or taking walks to enjoy the local culture was used to show each other exactly how much you loved one another. Whether that be in the bed, in the shower, the bath, even the balcony, you were making the most of it. Tom’s touches and whispers of your name was something you would never get used to. You never tired of listening to him.

“Oh come on, [Y/N], I’ve no one else to go through it with me.”

The sun had started to set on your last day on the island, painting the sky in a mixture of golds, oranges and reds. You leaned back in the chair on the balcony and took a bite of one of the watermelon slices you’d ordered from room service. Tom had his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He pushed up his glasses and looked back over the script for  _ Cherry _ he had resting on his lap. He’d been asking non-stop for almost ten minutes for you to read it with him, but your only acting experience went as far as being cast as a lamb in the school nativity when you were seven. Feeling your stare, Tom turned back and gave you the puppy eyes that were impossible to resist.

“Oh alright, give it here,” you sighed and accepted the script. Tom pointed out where to start from and you sat up a little straighter in your seat, pulling a leg up underneath you. “Before we start, you should know that I’m no Meryl Streep.”

“Nor am I,” he said with a shrug of a shoulder. He kept his eyes on you while you read, feeding off your reactions. There were a few lines he completely forgot or muddled up with another. Watching him turn into a completely different person was fascinating. How could someone so sweet and innocent instantly switch to a man struggling with a drug addiction? That was talent. Pure talent. There were a few scenes you went over multiple times. Tom wanted to get them just right. You only stopped when the sun got too low to offer any light to read the lines. The gentle breeze from the sea picked up, sending a shiver down your spine. Seeing the cold affect you, Tom went inside to grab a blanket, so you picked up your phone to read your messages.

There were messages from the usual group of friends and your mother, which you swiftly replied to, then decided to check Instagram. Since people had found out about your relationship with Tom, you’d found yourself steering away from posting and avoided looking at any comments or private messages. But what was the harm in having a little look now? The abuse had calmed down a lot since it first started, though there were still messages here and there calling you names and reminding you that Tom deserved better. You scrolled through your private messages, deleting ones you didn’t like the look off just from the preview. Then one caught your eye. After a quick glance behind your shoulder to check Tom was still busy inside, you read what one of Tom’s apparent fans had sent.

Disgusting wasn’t even the word. You read the message over and over, feeling more nauseous each time. It wasn’t a secret you kept from anyone that you were adopted, but that information would only be found on your personal account that you kept private from those you didn’t know. But this person knew and they weren’t shy about expressing how your biological parents should have gotten rid of you instead because clearly they didn’t want you. And if they didn’t want you then no one else would? Who would be crazy enough to love someone else’s throwaway? Tom deserved someone more on his level and someone who wasn’t using him for fame, they said. Someone he’d be proud of. To finish it off, they gave their wishes for you to end your life.

The phone fell from your hands when you jumped out of your skin at the feeling of a blanket being wrapped around your shoulders. You hadn’t heard Tom come back out.

“You reading a story or something?” Tom asked with a chuckle, having caught a glimpse of the length of the message.

You cleared your throat to get rid of the lump that had formed and picked your phone up from the ground. “Oh. Um. Y-yeah, a story,” you agreed quickly and mentally cursed at how your voice wobbled. After locking your phone, you curled up on the chair and pulled the blanket tighter around your frame.

“Hey, what’s up?” His voice was soft and his frown deep after catching the shakiness. He reached over and brushed some hair from your face. “Darling, what’s wrong? Was my acting really that bad?” He flashed a smile, but it failed to ignite and fizzled out.

Through tear-filled eyes, you looked over at him and bit your lower lip. He deserved to know, right? If it was the other way around, you would want to know if he was getting sent messages of this sort. But would that just be running away and hiding behind him, using him as a shield against the people who sent hate? You took a deep breath and unlocked your phone to the message, then handed it over. As he read his face hardened and his jaw clenched. You’d never seen such fury in his eyes. After reading that message Tom flicked back to the other messages you’d yet to delete and read through a few of them, his anger continuing to build up.

“Why’ve you never said anything to me?” he asked quietly, running his fingers along his stubble. He put the phone back on the table and sighed heavily. “There’s hundreds of them, [Y/N]. How come you haven’t told me you were getting this sort of abuse?” He was angry at the senders, yes, but there was some anger directed towards you. All you could do was shrug lamely because what excuse did you really have? That you didn’t want to bother him, that you didn’t think he should know because it would mean even more work for him to deal with? There was no excuse, not really. “Oh come on,” he huffed and stood to lean against the balcony fence. He ran his hand through his hair and pulled at it a little, then turned back to you. “How long has this been going on?”

You couldn’t bear to look at him and see the frustration on his face so you focused on picking at your nail polish. “Since we were first spotted together,” you mumbled and chanced a look to see him shake his head. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you said, voice a little louder now. “I just… I didn’t want to burden you with my problems.”

“Your problems? Babe, you wouldn’t be getting this sort of shit if you weren’t seen with me.”

“Well maybe we should be more careful,” you huffed and pulled the blanket closer as the wind picked up.

“What, so you’d rather not be seen with me?” Tom questioned with a harshness to his tone.

Your head shot up at his words. “What? No, of course not! I just…” You looked around as though searching for the right thing to say. “I just wish this wasn’t part of our relationship.”

“It’s not, [Y/N]. It shouldn’t be.”

“Yeah, well it is.”

With a heavy sigh, Tom pushed himself away from the fence and moved back over towards your side. He knelt down next to your chair. “I’m sorry you’ve been spoken to like this.”

“Sorry?” you frowned. “Why are you sorry? You’re not the one sending the messages."

“No, but like I said, you wouldn’t be getting them if it weren’t for me.”

“Oh come off it, Tom, it’s not all about you,” you said with a slightly forced chuckle and took a hold of his hand. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed your fingers.

“Would you like me to say something?” he asked softly and brushed that stubborn piece of hair from your face again. “I can message all those people back and tell them to basically fuck off.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, they’ll probably get off on that and convince themselves that you’ll then fall in love with them or something. Really, Tom, it’s fine. I can deal with it myself.”

“Clearly,” he said quietly and took his phone from the back pocket of his shorts. When he opened up his Instagram app, you sighed.

“No, Tom, really. It might get people to send me more shit because it looks as though I’ve just ran away crying to you about it, which I definitely have’t,” you added quickly and pointed a finger at him, wanting to keep at least a little bit of pride.

“Well what else do you expect me to do?” he asked, ignoring your finger as he typed a message to add to his story. When you didn’t reply, he turned his screen for you to proofread. It was simple, reminding people to respect his privacy and to stop sending abuse to those he loves. It wasn’t directly pointing the finger towards you but hopefully it was still enough to at least ease the trolls even more. After your nod of approval, Tom posted it to his story and then put his phone away. “There,” he said and kissed your nose. “Now promise me that from now on you’ll tell me things like this? I don’t want you keeping secrets from me, especially when it’s something like this.”

The promise was made and a kiss was given to seal the deal. You felt better after letting Tom in on what had always been niggling away at the back of your mind. Things had been sorted. At least for now.


End file.
